Heroes are Made by the Paths they Choose
by Sawyer's Peace
Summary: While Tony is working at getting the Accords amended, Steve is seeking sanctuary in Wakanda with Clint and Wanda. Both heroes realize that they were wrong but don't know how to make amends. Tony is struggling with his new parental/mentor role in Peter's life while Steve and Clint are dealing with a traumatized teenage girl with telekinetic abilities. Friendship/Parenting
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello Readers,**_

_**I've been editing the story I've been working on and I'm just not content with the way I separated things in the beginning. I decided to edit and amalgamate the two stories as one. I will leave the others up for you to read again at your leisure.**_

_**I will be editing and rewriting this story to blend the two together...and hopefully finishing the story.**_

_**This first chapter is much the same with some additions and edits.**_

_**I haven't seen Endgame or the new Spiderman movie so there are no spoilers to worry about.**_

_**This story takes place after SM Homecoming and the fight between Tony and Steve in Civil War.**_

_**I hope you enjoy.**_

_**Cheers!**_

_**Sawyer.**_

"_**Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with." – **__**Tony Stark**_

**New York**

"**I think you've done enough."**

Peter sat on the edge of the high rise building, his mentor's words repeatedly echoing in his head. He could still see the ferry from his vantage point. His stomach plummeted as he thought about what happened. Peter pulled his mask off despondently as he watched the aftermath unfold. How could he be so stupid thinking he could handle things on his own? Part of him blamed Mr. Stark. He tried to tell him but the stubborn man refused to listen to him. He never listened! Peter could still see Ironman in his mind's eye, repairing his mess and ignoring his pleas to help. Instinctively, Peter knew it was only one of Tony Starks' many suits. The man was a freakin' genius. He could remote-control his suits from the comfort of his workshop without breaking a sweat. That ferry was just a drop in the bucket for Ironman to fix. Peter swung his legs back and forth mindlessly as he turned his face from the helicopters and rescue boats going to the passenger's rescue. He didn't want to think of the consequences of his actions. He'd rather just pretend it didn't happen.

Peter was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't see the Iron suit approach until he heard his mentor's voice. "Previously on Peter screws the pooch," began the voice as the suit hovered in the air behind him.

Peter sighed refusing to look. The last thing he wanted was to have a conversation with an empty suit. Although, his anger was mounting as he heard the Stark's voice continue speaking.

"I tell you to stay away from this…but instead, you hack a multi-million dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back doing the one thing I told you NOT to do!"

Peter swallowed, feeling more than a little guilty already. He really didn't need any more being heaped on him. "Is everyone okay?"

The suit hovered in one spot. "No thanks to you." Tony's voice sounded pissed.

Peter felt his temper flare. He already felt responsible. He didn't need the guilt trip. Suddenly he didn't care what he said to his mentor. To hell with the self-important Tony Stark. This was his fault! Had he just listened to him, none of this would have happened.

"No thanks to me?" Peter stood to his feet and jumped off the ledge, going up close and personal to the suit. He hoped Mr. Stark would get a good look at his angry face because he was pissed too. "Those weapons were out there and I tried to tell you about it but you didn't listen." Peter pointed at the suit's mask incredulously. He kept walking closer as the suit landed on the top of the building in front of him. Peter didn't back down. He wasn't afraid of Tony Starks' stupid Ironman suit. The man didn't give a rat's pyjamas about him so why did he care what the man thought?

"None of this would've happened if you had just listened to me!"

As an afterthought, and more to himself than to the suit, Peter muttered, "If you even cared, you'd actually be here."

To Peter's surprise, the suit opened and the Tony Stark exited the suit looking more than a little ticked off. Peter's pulse picked up in his chest and he took a step back. His jaw dropped in surprise and he had to admit, the pissed off look on Tony's face frightened him a little. Tony Stark was a formidable man on a good day.

Tony stepped out of the suit and sniffed, tilting his head a little. He strode towards Peter intimidatingly and Peter couldn't stop himself from stepping back further, swallowing hard.

"I did listen, kid. Who do you think called the FBI, huh?" commented his mentor icily continuing to step closer to Peter.

Peter's self-preservation took over, forcing him to continue walking backward as the millionaire walked forward. He gulped as his mind reeled at the deja vu moment. The man's tone sounded vaguely reminiscent of his Uncle Ben when Peter had screwed up. Peter didn't like how that made him feel. He was Spiderman for Pete's sake, not some stupid little kid.

"Do you know that I was the only one to believe in you? Everyone else thought I was crazy to recruit a 14-year-old kid."

Without thinking, Peter corrected the furious man. "I'm fifteen."

Starks' eyes darkened dangerously. "NO! This is where you zip it, all right?" he said, his hand making the gesture threateningly. Peter gulped nervously and stepped back again. "The adult is talking."

Peter's eyes widened in trepidation. Mr. Stark had gotten his attention. The last time Peter had seen an authority figure this angry with him, he'd ended up sitting uncomfortably for several hours afterward. His Uncle Ben had made it very clear that Peter would not usurp his authority without reaping the consequences. Peter shivered at the memory while keeping a sharp eye on his mentor.

"What if someone died tonight," continued Tony, pulling Peter back into the moment. "Different story, right? Because that's on you." Tony poked him sternly in the chest and Peter's pulse picked up. "And if you died?" Tony lifted his hands up in frustration. "I feel like that's on me. I don't need that on my conscience."

Peter bit his lip. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I understand…"

Tony shook his head. "Sorry doesn't cut it."

"I know," said Peter feeling desperate to make his mentor understand. "I…I just wanted to be like you," he finally said, surprising himself by how true the words were. He truly had wanted to be the hero Tony was but he'd failed miserably.

Tony looked away, his eyes taking in the helicopters in the distance. He paused for a moment taking in the kid's words. If he hadn't been so angry with the kid, he might have chosen his next words more carefully.

"And I wanted you to be better."

There was no mistaking the pain that flashed in Peter's eyes. Tony's words had cut him to the core. His mentor had had high expectations for him and he'd let the man down. Peter looked away, not wanted to see the look of utter disappointment in his mentor's eyes. The penetrating look sliced through him making his stomach flip awkwardly.

"Okay, so this is not working out. It's clear to me that you are not responsible enough so I'm going to need the suit back."

Peter's eyes widened in disbelief. "For how long?"

"Forever," said Tony, his tone decisive.

Peter blinked. "No…"

"Yes, that's how it works."

"NO, no, please." Peter's was on the verge of panicking. He did not want to go back to using his own suit. Tony's creation was beyond all his expectations. He couldn't bear the thought of giving it back. He needed it. He was nothing without the suit.

Tony held out his hand impatiently. "Let's have it."

"Please, Mr. Stark," pleaded Peter. "Please don't take the suit. I need it. Spiderman needs it. I'm really sorry, and...you can umm put the tracker back in and fix the hacks I did, and I swear I won't mess with any of that stuff again. Please, please don't take the suit."

Tony shook his head and held his hand out expectantly. "This isn't up for discussion, kid. You blew it. Give me the suit. Now!" Tony's voice was firm.

Peter stepped back again shaking his head adamantly. "Please, Mr. Stark. Ground me…no patrolling at night…um extra homework…take my computer and my phone…no dessert for a month…" Peter was desperate now. Tony looked resolute and Peter knew he was losing the battle.

"You don't get it, do you, kid? You almost died tonight along with a whole boat full of innocent bystanders all because you didn't obey me and stay out of it like I told you to do. You lied to me, Peter, and took matters into your own hands. People could have died! Don't you get that?" Tony narrowed his eyes at Peter in amazement.

Peter licked his lips. "Please, Mr.' Stark, I'm sorry. I really am. I promise I will listen to you from now on just please don't take the suit. I'm begging you."

Tony crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He was quickly losing his temper with the kid. This conversation was over. His eyes were resolute when they opened once again. The kid would not win this.

"Give me the suit or I take it, myself. I guarantee neither one of us will enjoy that." Tony allowed the threat to linger.

Peter's eyes grew very large and he backed up even further until he was on the ledge once again. Tears blurred his vision as he took in his mentor's angry demeanour. There was no way he would win against Ironman in an altercation. Peter dropped his gaze to the ground for a moment. He reached down and picked up his mask, pulling it over his face once again.

"Peter," said Tony in a threatening voice.

Peter held up his hand. "No. You gave me this suit and you can't have it back. Go to hell, Mr. Stark." With those final words, Peter shot a web across to the next building and disappeared.

Tony blinked in disbelief. He could not believe the audacity of the kid. One part of Tony was impressed. He never knew the kid had it in him to stand up for himself. The other part of him was amused. Amused that the cocky kid thought he could run away from him.

Tony suited up again and took off after the kid. Clearly, he needed to find another way to get through to the kid, and Tony had a feeling that Lil Spidey wasn't going to like the consequences of his little outburst. It was time to show the kid who was in charge.

**Wakanda**

Wanda moaned and shifted in her sleep. Her dreams were always the same….always beating her up… about decisions made…about choices made…about Pietro and people dying…it made her exhausted.

"I've caused enough problems." Wanda moaned the words out loud in her sleep.

"You gotta help me, Wanda. Look, you wanna mope, go to high school. You wanna make amends, get off your ass," said the ghost of a memory of Clint.

"I'm so sorry!" she shouted. Perspiration covered her head, soaking her hair and pyjamas. "It's all my fault!" Visions consumed her consciousness...buildings exploding and bombs going off because of her. People screaming and dying, all because of her.

"Pietro!" she screamed. Memories of her brother flooded her head…the times they were together…the times he rescued her. He always rescued her. He always took care of her, especially after their parents died.

Wanda sat up suddenly and sobbed into her hands, at the same time a knock was heard on her door but she ignored it.

"Wanda? You okay?" came a muffled voice.

Wanda sniffled and brushed her sweaty hair out of her face. She tried to find her voice so she could make whoever it was go away, but she was shaking and trembling too much to do anything but dissolve into tears.

The door opened and Steve walked into the room. He was dressed in pyjama pants but wore nothing on his upper body. He had awoken startled by the girl's screams and had thought of nothing but seeing if she was alright. If he had been in his right mind, his modesty would have demanded he dress more appropriately in front of the youngster.

Steve came into the dimness of the light and took a good look at the small frame in front of him. Wanda was soaked in perspiration, trembling and shaking while overtaken in tears. It had become the norm for the teen girl, and Steve didn't know what to do about it.

He sat down on the edge of her bed and drew her into his arms to comfort her. He tried every time, hoping that she would seek his comfort.

"Don't!" she cried, shoving him away.

Steve pulled away and his heart ached to watch her try and gain control over her emotions. It was killing him watching her struggle so hard on her own, never letting anyone in to help. They had come so far at the Avengers Compound and then everything seemed to fall apart with the Accords. Steve knew she blamed herself and it didn't matter what he said; she refused to listen to him.

"Wanda, you need to let us in. This is tearing you apart, sweetie. Talk to me, and if you can't talk to me, talk to Clint."

Wanda hiccupped and sniffled, trembling so forcefully that she could hardly sit straight. "G-go away! Leave-leave me-me alone!"

Steve sighed, reaching out to brush her damp hair off her forehead. She flinched and put her hands together warningly. Red energy flashed around her fingers threateningly. Steve sighed again as he stood to his feet.

"You know better than that, kid," said a stern voice from the doorway.

Steve and Wanda both looked towards the door to see Clint dressed in baggy pyjama boxers, standing in the doorway.

"You could have put on a housecoat, Clint," admonished Steve, scratching the back of his head inwardly groaning that he hadn't taken his own advice. The newness of having a teen girl to care for was overwhelming to him at times.

"What? Why? It's 3 am. Seriously, man, you need to give up your 1940 puritanism. This is the 21st century. I walk around in my boxers all the time at home." Clint walked into the room, switching on the light. He sat in a chair, scratching at his scruffy face. He looked at Wanda in sympathy but with a bit of firmness too. "Don't threaten us, little girl."

The energy disappeared from her fingers and Wanda pulled herself back up against the headboard of her bed. Her knees went up to her chest and she hid her face.

Steve looked at Clint and shrugged not knowing what to say to the young, fragile-looking girl.

"Nightmares again?" Clint said in Wanda's direction.

They could still see her trembling but she didn't respond.

"It must have been bad this time," commented Steve, not caring that she could hear them. Wanda woke them up nearly every night now screaming, and it was getting progressively worse. He'd talked to several doctors in Wakanda who had all offered to help, but Wanda refused and her behaviour just became worse. Her threats increased against them and Steve was beginning to wonder if they would be able to contain her if she lost control.

Clint stood up and walked over to Wanda's side. He tapped the top of her sweaty head.

"You can't ignore them, Wanda, and you can't ignore us. During the day, your behaviour is atrocious at best and at night, you keep everyone awake. Somethings gotta give here, kid. We all need some sleep."

Wanda's head popped up and she inched away from his hand. "I never asked you to come in here! Go-go away!" she screamed at him, fury on her face. It was his fault her brother was dead. Pietro would still be here if he hadn't have saved Clint's life. Wanda's hair began to lift and energy filled the room.

Clint poked a finger towards her face, "That's enough, Wanda. I told you I wouldn't put up with that nonsense. We're not your enemies."

The energy picked up and Steve stepped between them. "Clint, threatening her isn't helping. Calm down." He looked at Wanda, whose face was red…her fingers flashed red energy and her eyes were wide in anger. "Same with you, sweetheart; calm down, okay? We just want to help."

Wanda's hair fell heavy on her shoulders and she puffed out her lips. "I don't want your help. I don't want anyone's help!" she snapped, glaring at Clint the entire time.

Clint growled, dropping his hands to his sides. "Fine, I'm going to bed, but keep your screams down to a dull roar, Babydoll. I need my sleep to stay patient with you in the daylight." He held up his forefinger and thumb about an inch apart so she could clearly see. "I'm about this close to pulling you over my knee." With those final words, Clint left the room in an annoyed huff.

"Clint," groaned Steve at his retreating form. Clint didn't look back, and Steve shook his head in irritation. Things were going so well in their joint parenting venture. Steve had thought Clint would better at parenting since he already had kids. Turned out they had very different parenting philosophies when it came to teenage girls. But what did he know? Steve closed his eyes and willed himself to remain calm. He'd never had kids and he wasn't even sure he liked himself when he was a teenager. And a teenage girl with mental powers she could barely control? Oh, yah, this was fun! What had he been thinking petitioning the Wakandian government to be her guardian? He had to be nuts. Maybe it would have better for her to stay in a safe house, protected and controlled by Vision. The only problem was even Vision was proven to not be able to control her. Wanda was uncontrollable. Their best bet was to teach her self-control. That was his plan. Or so he thought. Clint had been on board with the idea, feeling responsible for her because of the death of her twin brother. Steve knew that Clint was totally committed to the venture. Wanda was worth it to him and to Steve.

T'Challa suggested they put restrictions on the girl's powers. They had the technology to do that in Wakanda, only Steve thought it would be cruel to do that. Her powers were part of who she was intrinsically, deep down as a person. They needed to help her control them under every circumstance, and so far, Wanda hadn't used them on anyone. She just threatened too. Steve was hoping that with time even those threats would dissipate.

Steve sat on Wanda's bed again and looked at her. "You're not going to win any awards with him by threatening us with your abilities, Wanda." He spoke gently and kindly.

"I. Don't. Care," she said and glared at him. Her tremors had stopped replaced by the normal rebelliousness she carried in the daylight. Steve heaved a sigh. He hated seeing her so defensive and defiant. It got his back up. Most of the day, he kept his distance from her, working out and thinking about things; trying to make sense of his own life and mistakes. When he was forced to deal with her defiance and disobedience, it just discouraged him. He actually enjoyed the few seconds when he could draw her into his arms and comfort her even when she pushed him away. A small part of him felt her resist just a little less each time. He knew she craved the comfort, but she didn't think she deserved it.

"C'mon, Wanda, you know that's not true. You care about Clint. And I know you don't want him to be angry with you all the time. Things don't have to be this way, sweetie. T'Challa said there is an excellent high school here. I've looked at your work; you could easily join the 10th-grade students if you wanted too. The academics are advanced, but I could help you and T'Challa's sister, Shuri, is very sweet. I think she's around your age too. You two would make great friends."

Wanda ran a hand through her hair; it wasn't shaking anymore. She had managed to brush away the cobwebs of the nasty dreams, establishing her equilibrium once more.

"You said I could homeschool."

Steve smiled at her kindly, "I did, and I stand by that, honey, but I just think you would enjoy life more if you didn't keep yourself so isolated. Wakanda is a beautiful kingdom. There is so much to see and do here. I know this isn't where any of us wanted to be, but for now, it's safe and we have the freedom to do whatever we want here."

"Staying where I don't want to be is still a prison, Steve."

Steve nodded, "I know, and I'm sorry, but it has to be this way for now."

Wanda crawled across the bed past him and stood to her feet. She walked over to her dresser and grabbed her brush, ripping it roughly through her tangled and damp hair. "It's not any different than when Vision kept me prisoner."

Steve stood up and gently took the brush from her hand. He carefully ran the brush through her long, auburn hair. He could see her relax as she let him brush her hair. "I know, sweetie; none of this is ideal and I'm sorry for that. I never intended for any of this to happen. Maybe I should have signed the accords. Perhaps some say is better than no say."

Wanda spun around, catching his hand in hers. "And then what would have happened to us?"

Steve cupped her cheek in his hand. "I'll always protect you, Wanda. You need to trust me on that."

Tears filled her eyes once more. "Why? What am I to you?"

Steve smiled, "Well, I guess I'd like to think of you as my daughter."

Tears cascaded down her cheeks and her chin dropped to her chest. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Steve drew her into him and embraced her tightly. To his surprise and delight, she didn't pull away but allowed herself the comfort.


	2. Chapter 2

**And here is chapter 2 as well...enjoy!**

**New York**

Peter stuffed his suit into his backpack as his mind wandered over recent events. He was trying to convince himself that he wasn't the biggest idiot on the planet for telling Tony Stark to go to hell. Habit brought him to his usual hiding spot where he stored his backpack. He went on autopilot as he quickly dressed in his street clothes and slung his bag onto his back.

"Now what, Genius?" he muttered out loud. "Do I just go home and have dinner with Aunt May like nothing happened?" Peter smacked himself in the forehead. He couldn't believe how much trouble he'd made for himself. Tony Stark knew where he lived. He knew where he went to school. "I am so screwed."

Peter stood in the remote alleyway frozen in place, completely chagrined. He honestly did not know what he was going to do next. He had no plan, and he was still so irritated that his mind wouldn't allow him to think clearly. More than anything, he couldn't wrap his head around how unreasonable his mentor was being.

Peter began to pace, becoming angrier as he thought about what happened on the ferry. None of what happened was his fault. How could Tony blame him? He tried to warn the man but Mr. All Important, self-involved Tony Stark couldn't make time to speak with him.

Peter was so deep in thought, he didn't notice when Tony landed in his suit and exited it directly behind him.

"So, what's the plan now, Spiderling?"

Peter spun around and stood face to face with his billionaire mentor.

Tony stepped closer into the lamplight so the kid could see his clenched jaw. The last thing Tony wanted to do was have a power struggle with a damned teenager. Hell, he'd rather be getting a root canal than arguing with a hormonal adolescent.

"Where did you think you could go that I wouldn't find you, kid?"

Peter huffed. "Just go away. You're so damned good at ignoring me. Why don't we just go back to that, huh?"

Tony sniffed. "No can do, kid. Where's the suit?"

"Somewhere you'll never find it. Go away." Peter tightened his grip on his backpack self-consciously.

Tony rolled his eyes. "C'mon, kid. Hand over the bag."

Peter stepped backward. "NO!"

Tony's hands found his hips. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Get what? That you're a self-righteous asshole?"

Tony smirked. He was definitely amused with the kid's newfound tenacity. It was cute… in a very annoying way. "Why'd you mess with the suit?"

"How'd you find me?" asked Peter, glaring at the man and ignoring his question. Peter knew that he'd yanked out the tracker and left it in the hotel room. There was no way Tony could track his whereabouts any longer. He had no clue how the man had found him.

"You're kidding, right?" chuckled Tony incredulously. "You don't think I don't know every one of your hideouts? I've been tracking you day and night since the day I gave you the damned suit. You're a creature of habit, kid. In fact, Happy has managed to find about three of your abandoned backpacks full of clothes. You'd think your aunt was made of money or something."

Peter chewed his lip. It was true. He was forgetful sometimes. In the aftermath of his Spidey adventures, he often misplaced his backpack and belongings. He had several overdue library books and a lost textbook as a result.

"Uh, did he find my Chemistry book by any chance?" asked Peter, forgetting himself.

Tony hands dropped to his side and he began to pace. "Do you get how expensive that suit's technology is? It's not a toy! You don't get to dismantle it like one of your Lego sets. There are safety protocols built into it to keep your skinny butt safe! That tracker…you know the one you stuck to the lamp in your hotel room…I installed it for a damned good reason. You put your life in danger by removing it. What the hell am I supposed to tell your aunt if you get yourself killed?"

"I never asked you to put all that technology into it…"

Tony stopped pacing and glared at him. "You're damned right you didn't, and you want to know why? Because your 15 friggin years old. You think you're immortal."

Peter looked away. He wasn't used to being in this kind of trouble. His pulse was racing and his stomach ached from the tension. In the distance, a feral cat screeched and several dogs could be heard barking. Muffled voices could be heard coming from above them. It was getting darker and more shadows were forming around them. Peter felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was probably his Aunt May texting him, wondering where he was. He was late for supper again with no good explanation he could give her.

"You lied to me, Peter. I asked you where you were and you said you were at school. Band practice, was it? That's where you damned well should have been. Skipping school to play Spidey wasn't part of our agreement. Playing a superhero is something you do after school and on weekends…"

Peter's eyes narrowed. "I'm not playing a game!"

Tony stepped into his personal space. "You're damned right about that one! It's not a game. You should have been at school because that's where kids belong, and in case you forgot, you're still a kid. Kids stay in school and live to go to college. They don't swing from buildings on spider webs and they sure as hell don't go after super-villains by themselves." Tony stared him down sternly causing Peter to step back again. Tony Stark was not someone to be messed with when he was pissed.

"I seem to remember pulling your sorry ass out of a lake. Remember? Yah, you do," said Tony seeing the look of annoyance come across the kid's face. "I told you to back off then and to stick to small crime. You know, like being a friendly neighbour spider boy? That kind of thing but did you listen? NO!"

Peter narrowed his eyes, defiance showing in every fibre of his being. "YOU didn't pull me out of that lake. Your lame ass suit did. You were too busy wining and dining at some fancy resort to give a crap about me and what I had to say."

Tony narrowed his eyes right back. The billionaire was becoming more and more irritated at the kid's attitude. Impressed on one level but definitely annoyed.

"I told you to stick to the smaller stuff and work your way up, kid, not track some dangerous criminals. You interfered with the freakin FBI investigation that I set up because I did listen to you."

"How was I supposed to know?" screamed Peter. "It's not like you ever talk to me or tell me anything."

Tony took a deep breath. "Since when do I need your permission, Mr. Parker!"

Peter threw his hands up in the air. "You are so freakin' frustrating! Listen to yourself. If it wasn't for me, you'd have never known about those weapons!"

Tony poked his chest firmly. "Hundreds of people could have died today, Peter. I can't believe you can't get that through your thick teenage skull. You. Could. Have. Been. Killed!" Tony poked Peter for each staccato word. Peter stepped away until his back came up against a grimy wall.

Peter glared at his mentor, choice words growing momentum on his tongue.

"Hey, knock it off down there!" shouted a husky voice from above them. "Some of us are trying to eat. Just smack the mouthy kid already and let us eat in peace! You're giving us indigestion." The window above closed with an annoyed bang.

Tony eyed Peter for a moment, allowing the alleyway to exist in silence. "The man's got a point, Pete. Let's take this conversation elsewhere, shall we?"

Tony turned his back to Peter and walked back towards his suit.

Peter huffed loudly. "Forget it. I'm finished talking. I'm going home."

Tony climbed into the iron suit and looked down at Peter. "Yah, kid, that ain't happening. This discussion isn't over by a long shot."

"Yes, it is!" shouted Peter, turning and walking away from Tony.

The suit closed around Tony except for the mask. "Okay, have it your way. We'll go have a chat with your foxy Aunt May. I'm sure she'd love to hear about what happened today."

Peter froze mid-step. His aunt had no idea he was Spiderman and he planned to keep it that way for as long as he could. If she knew about it, she would flip out and probably forbid him from doing it. Or worse.

Peter turned to look at Tony all suited up. "Please, Mr. Stark…I'm begging you not to do that."

Tony closed his mask, stepped forward and grabbed Peter securely in his arms. "Hang on tight, kid."

**Wakanda**

"Calm down, Hun," Laura said, as she rocked their infant son, Nathaniel, in her arms. "It's not like you haven't dealt with an obstinate child before. Have you forgotten your older son?"

Clint smirked. He felt all his tension and irritation wash away in the company of his beautiful wife. "God, I miss you! " Laura always had a way of talking him off the ledge. "How is it that you can stay looking so gorgeous after being up all night with our son? I look horrible!" Clint rubbed his calloused hands over his face, feeling how weary he really was. Losing night after night of sleep was wearing thin on him. Somehow doing it for an infant or one of his children didn't bother him as much, but Wanda was different. Not that he minded getting up, it wasn't that but it was the helplessness he couldn't take. Getting up with babies almost always had some sort of fix. You fed them, changed them or rocked them and eventually you soothed them enough so they were content. But with Wanda, he couldn't do a damned thing to soothe her or comfort her. She wouldn't let him or Steve touch her let alone comfort her.

Laura smiled sweetly and moved to lay down the infant. "You don't look horrible, Clint," she said as she kissed the baby's forehead tenderly and moved to grab her phone, leaving the room quietly.

Clint enjoyed observing the bits and pieces of his home as she moved from one room to another. Standing outside their son, Cooper's, room, Laura placed a finger to her lips encouraging him to be quiet as she entered. Laura entered the room and moved her phone so that Clint could see the sleeping form of their oldest child. Cooper was curled up fast asleep, a look of peace and tranquillity on his face. Clint's heart ached in loneliness as he looked at his boy. He missed the child so much. Cooper was so full of life and he relished every moment he spent with his son.

"He's getting so big," whispered Clint. Laura nodded and smiled, pulling up the child's comforter and tucking him in. "What are you feeding him?"

"Not vegetables, that's for sure," she said, walking back to the door and exiting the room.

"Still giving you a hard time about that, huh?"

"That's an understatement. I threatened to feed him his uneaten broccoli for breakfast."

Clint frowned. "Why do you do that?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Threaten and not follow through. It wouldn't kill him to eat broccoli for breakfast, you know."

Laura glared at him. "Do you really want to get into this right now, Robin Hood?" The look on her face was adorable and made Clint laugh out loud.

Laura continued down the hall into their daughter, Lila's, room. Clint smirked when he spied his little girl. She was the resident artist of the family, never far from her markers and crayons. Lila was fast asleep sitting up with a marker clutched in her hand and a piece of paper on her lap. As he watched, Laura carefully disarmed the little girl of her drawing instrument and laid her back in the bed. Lila stirred a little but quickly rolled over while Laura covered her up and switched off her side table light.

"She's a monkey," commented Clint, still chuckling at the scene. "How many times have I told her to go to sleep and not stay up colouring?"

Laura smirked as she brushed a light kiss on the small child's head before leaving the room. Once outside Lila's room, Laura looked into the camera and blinked back tears.

"How much longer, Clint? I miss you so much. The kids miss you, and it's getting harder to appease them in your long absence. Cooper is really pushing the limits, and Lila asks about you every day..."

Clint felt his heart ache. He wished he had an answer for her but he didn't. It wasn't safe for him to go home yet, not until he got the go-ahead from Fury that he'd been granted immunity of sorts. He didn't want to risk exposing his family to danger and there was no way he wanted to risk going back to The Raft. Fury had assured him it wouldn't happen because he was a civilian, but Steve thought it was best to wait anyway. Clint was officially done with the whole Avenger business. His family needed him and he just wanted to be with his wife and kids. Deep down, he loved being a farmer just as much as he did being an Avenger. He was content with his life.

"Laura, you know I can't answer that yet."

Laura nodded and sighed. "I know you can't but you can't blame a girl for trying."

Clint smiled at her, "I love you, Laura."

She returned the smile. "I love you too, Robin Hood."

They continued talking as she walked into the kitchen. It was their favourite part of the day when they could talk, just the two of them with no interruptions. The time difference landed at a good time for them…his late morning and her early evening. He called every day and talked to his kids and then spent several hours talking to the love of his life. He cherished the time more than she'd ever know.

Laura poured herself a cup of herbal tea and sat down at the table, sighing as she did.

"Long day, honey?" asked Clint.

She nodded. "Every day is long without you."

His heart pinched. Every day was long for him too. "I'm sorry, Laura…"

She waved his words away with her hand. "Clint, you don't have to keep apologizing. I understand that you are doing your best. How's Steve doing?"

Clint leaned his head back and rested it against the comfortable sofa he lounged in. "Oh, he's doing alright, I suppose. I mean it's tough for him. He's not used to sitting around and waiting. It's not in his nature. Heck, it's not in my nature either. I keep thinking about everything there is to do on the farm and it drives me crazy."

Laura took a sip of her tea and smirked. "I don't think it's in any man's nature."

Clint chuckled. "Steve's from a whole 'nother era. He still can't wrap his head around the 21st century and all its peculiarities. The guy is just plain archaic in his thoughts and ideals. And here in Wakanda where half the soldiers are women, Steve definitely has his challenges. I swear it's insulting to the women here for a man to be any kind of gentlemen. It kinda makes me laugh at the guy."

Laura giggled. "I can only imagine."

Clint sobered. "It's not all that bad here though. Be a perfect spot to vacation. Steve keeps busy working out and spends a lot of time by himself. He doesn't talk much about what happened between him and Stark. I've tried to get him to open up but he just asks me to drop it."

"What about the girl?"

Clint scratched his head thoughtfully. "She's hurting, Laura, and she won't let us in. Steve soaked a lot of himself into her after the Ultron incident. He said she'd come so far and was trusting him and doing so well, but that event in Nigeria really shook her up."

"But you said it wasn't her fault."

"It wasn't her fault; she just reacted. I mean she's a kid and she's really powerful but there's no way she could have known what to do. Steve blames himself."

Laura was quiet as she sipped her tea. "From what you told me, if Wanda hadn't shielded Steve, he would have been killed."

"People would have been killed either way. Wanda needs to realize that and accept it."

"Aw, Clint, she's just a girl. She can't help the way she feels."

Clint sat up and reached for his mug, taking a sip of black coffee wishing it was an ice-cold beer instead.

"It's not that I don't feel sorry for her; I do, but man, that attitude of hers is enough to drive me to the brink. Steve ignores most of it or avoids her. She stomps around the place in the mother of all bad moods 24/7. I'm so close to dealing with her myself."

Laura grimaced at her husband, knowing his tone of voice. "And deal with her how exactly?"

"Pull her over my knee…works with Lila."

Laura looked aghast. "Oh, for heaven sakes, Clint, you can't do that. She's a young woman…"

"Young woman my ass, that girl has the maturity of a 10-year-old most days! If Lila did half the stuff she did, she'd be over my knee so fast, her head would be spinning. C'mon, Laura, you know me."

Laura nodded. "Clint, you said she was what? 16? You can't treat a teenage girl the same way you would an 8-year-old. It's not appropriate, and if it was Lila was 16 and acting out like that, I wouldn't let you."

Clint made a face and groaned. "This is different, Laura."

"Is it?"

Clint ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. "Never could win an argument against you, Love." Laura smiled. "Well, what would you suggest I do with her continuous rebellion?"

"Have patience, Clint and plenty of it. From what you've told me, that girl has been through hell and back; she's lost her parents and her twin brother. That would be hard on anyone, let alone a 16-year-old girl. She deserves a little understanding and sympathy, don't you think? What if it was Lila? How would you want her to be treated?"

Clint thought about it for a few moments before conceding to his wife. "I guess you're right. But I can say this, if Lila ever acted as insolent as Wanda, I wouldn't blame a guy for spanking her."

Laura shot him a look that made him laugh out loud. "You'd break every bone in the guy's body and you know it."

Clint nodded as he laughed. His wife knew him well, but Clint wasn't convinced that in this case, Laura was right. Wanda needed some strong guidance and something a little out of ordinary to shake her out of her funk. He was doing his best to stay patient with her and he would continue to preserve. He owed her that much. And if the truth be known, if anyone was going to put his foot down, that person needed to be Steve. He'd been the one to sign on as the young witch's guardian, and Steve needed to be the one to step up to the plate. Clint planned to go home to his family and Wanda wasn't part of that plan. As much as he cared about her, she didn't belong in his life. Wanda was an enhanced individual, much like Steve and she belonged in his world and not Clint's.


	3. Chapter 3

**New York**

Ironman landed on the upper deck of the tower, gently set Peter to his feet and exited the suit. Peter took a minute to gain his equilibrium and Tony left him to it. The kid was used to sailing through the air; a little ride in Ironman's arms wouldn't have made too much difference. Tony strode inside and headed for the bar. He needed a drink to calm his nerves. He wasn't used to this parenting crap. The fact that he kept hearing his father's voice whenever he spoke to Peter did not impress him. Crap, when did he turn into his father?

Tony poured a drink and heard Peter walk into the room. Taking a long mouthful, Tony steeled himself for the next part of playing adult. He felt responsible for Peter. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the line he'd adopted the damned kid. As long as the kid's aunt didn't know the whole truth, that made him responsible whether he liked it or not.

"Sit down, kid. You and I need to get a few things straight here, but first things first, hand over the damned suit. Don't make me ask you again."

Peter clutched the bag closer and shook his head. "No." His voice wavered a little, but his demeanour made it clear he wasn't going to back down.

Tony sighed and set his drink down. "It's funny how you think this is up for debate." His eyes darkened. "It's not. "

Peter fidgeted nervously.

"You've proven to me that you're not responsible enough to have that suit."

"Bullshit," whispered Peter.

Tony's jaw dropped. This was definitely a new side to Peter. The kid had grown some balls. Tony was more and more impressed each time he spoke with the kid…pissed off but also very impressed.

"I feel the need to point out the inappropriateness of your language, in Cap's honour of course."

A small smirk played on Peter's lips, easing the tension a little. Tony was grateful for the reprieve. He wasn't used to being the bad guy.

"C'mon, kid, take a seat and let's talk."

Peter walked over to the nearest sofa and sat down still gripping his book bag for dear life. The site was almost comical. Tony sat across from him, leaned back and rested his ankle on his opposite knee.

"So, as far as I can tell, you have one of two choices, kid."

Peter furrowed his brow but didn't say anything.

"The two of us can go and have a little chat with Aunt May or you get to deal with me."

Peter's face paled significantly and he licked his lips. "Uh, can I have a drink of water?"

Tony rose to his feet and walked towards the bar. "So, what'll it be, kid?"

"A scotch on the rocks?" quipped Peter.

Tony chuckled, bringing a glass of water to Peter and handing it to him with a smile. "Funny, kid."

Peter took the water and drained the whole glass. He was stalling for sure, but he was also thirsty. He was always thirsty when he was nervous. And he also needed to use the washroom but he'd hold it for a while longer.

"Please, Mr. Stark, don't tell my Aunt May. She wouldn't understand. She already worries about me getting hurt or killed like my Uncle Ben. I'm all she's got left. If she found out about Spiderman, she'd flip out. I'm not kidding and she'd forbid me from going out ever again. Please, you've got to understand how it is. Spiderman is who I am. I can't separate myself."

Tony sighed and sat down again. "Listen, kid, your aunt should know. You're a damned kid, for Pete's sake, and she's your guardian. She needs to know…"

"She wouldn't understand!" insisted Peter.

Tony sighed. He could appreciate where the kid was coming from. It was hard for Pepper to grasp sometimes too. Tony understood what Peter was saying better than anyone. He couldn't separate himself from Ironman either. Tony thought for a few minutes and made up his mind. If the kid was going to insist his aunt didn't know, then the rules were about to change dramatically. There was no way Peter getting hurt or killed was going to be on his conscience.

Tony sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. "Okay, kid, this is how things are going to play out from here on in. If you don't want Aunt May to know about this Spidey gig then your butt belongs to me. Understand what I'm saying here?"

Peter gulped. "Yes, sir, Mr. Stark…ummm, I mean, no, sir…I mean…"

Tony held out his hand. "We'll start with you giving me that damned suit back. You are not ready for that kind of technology yet."

Peter's face reddened and he held his bag tighter.

Tony groaned and grabbed the bag, snatching it from Peter's hands. Peter stood up indignantly and tried to grab it back. Tony held it away from him and unzipped it.

"Hey! You have no right."

"I have every right, Webster, so sit your ass back down and listen up." Tony was more serious than Peter had ever seen him.

Peter huffed and crossed his arms. "You made it for me. It's mine!"

Tony lifted a brow as he tossed the suit onto the nearby chair. "I said sit!"

"No! I'm leaving. You have your stupid suit, now leave me the hell alone!"

Peter began to walk towards the door but Tony reached and grabbed him by the forearm. Peter spun on his heel and yanked his arm out of Tony's grasp. Peter was strong. He didn't need an iron suit to defend himself. In reality, he could easily throw Tony Stark across a room with very little effort. His respect for Tony kept him from doing that, but his anger was mounting. Tony was seriously pissing him off.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped. "You've got your suit back. How about we just go back to the good ole days of you ignoring me, okay?" Peter began walking away again.

Tony grabbed his arm again. "That's not gonna happen, Spider-boy. If your Aunt May doesn't know about this, then that makes me responsible for you."

Peter glared at the billionaire, shoving the man backward just hard enough to make him stumble. He hoped Tony realized just how much self-control it took not to send him flying across the room. "NO, it doesn't. I can take care of myself. I was Spiderman before I met you, and I will be Spiderman when you piss off!"

Tony's eyes darkened dangerously, and before Peter could comprehend what was happening, Tony came at him, spun him sideways and landed the mother of all smacks on his backside. Peter's eyes widened in astonishment and his mouth gaped. His heart rate increased and his face reddened in embarrassment. The swat stung like hell on impact but quickly faded away due to his accelerated healing but it wasn't the pain that caught his attention; it was the look on Tony's face that made him freeze stock-still in his tracks.

"You don't get to call the shots, Mr. Parker," said Tony in eerily quiet voice. He pointed his finger at Peter's face sternly. "There is no debate here. You're gonna sit your ass down and we're going to discuss how things are gonna go from now on. I'm finished with this adolescent brattitude shit. You showed me you have balls and I'm impressed. Good job. Peter Parker has balls. Okay, we're done, now it's time to zip your lip."

Peter stood gaping at him, his hand going to rub his backside without thinking. He couldn't have been more shocked that Tony Stark had actually smacked him.

"Don't look so wounded, kid. You and I both know that swat hurt my hand far more than it hurt your ass," said Tony massaging his hand and walking towards the bar again. He opened the mini-fridge and pulled out an ice pack, wrapping it around his throbbing hand. His gut instinct to haul the kid over his knee wasn't going to work. Smacking Peter was like smacking a friggin brick wall. "Now, I'm asking you to sit down so we can talk. I won't ask again."

Peter sucked in his bottom lip and continued to stare at Tony. Tony clutched the ice pack and grimaced as he held it. Peter's stomach churned threatening to unload it's contents as he slowly wandered over and sat down on the sofa. Somewhere along the lines, the dynamics had changed between Tony and himself. Tony had gone from his mentor and friend to some kind of authority figure, and Peter somehow felt trapped by that knowledge. If he didn't cooperate then Tony would tell his aunt. He was screwed either way. If Tony didn't kill him, his Aunt May would.

"Please, Mr. Stark, please don't take the suit. I'm nothing without the suit."

Tony set the ice pack down on the counter and strode into the room, towering over Peter ominously with his hands on his hips.

"If you're nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it at all!"

Tears flooded Peter's eyes. Tony's words stung. A lot.

Tony sighed loudly and sat down opposite Peter. "God, I sound like my dad." He ran a hand through his dark hair and stared into space.

Peter looked down at his hands, lacing his fingers together and feeling at a complete loss. He wasn't sure what he should say to Tony. He'd lost the man's respect and trust, and he hated feeling that way. But, on the other hand, he felt like Tony had let him down too. Tony had led him to believe that he would be a more active part of his life after they returned from Germany. But the billionaire had obviously wanted Peter to just be a good little boy and stay under the radar, so he could go about his business and not be bothered with him.

"So, what am I supposed to do with you now, kid?"

Peter shrugged but didn't make eye contact.

"I can't ground you. I can't take your phone away without your aunt knowing. I sure as hell can't spank you. I'd probably break every bone in my hand doing that. I'd have to wear my damned suit to make a dent in your stubborn backside…"

Peter's stomach sank further; listening to Tony Stark naming ways to punish him like some little kid only served to humiliate him.

Tony glanced at his watch. "You better give your aunt a call. Tell her where you are and that I want you to spend the night with me. Make up something about your internship or something." Tony rose to his feet once more. "I need to attend to some business for an hour or so. Hang tight, help yourself to anything non-alcoholic in the fridge but don't you dare step a pinky toe out of this tower. Understand me?"

Peter swallowed and nodded.

Tony grabbed the Spiderman suit and disappeared out the door leaving Peter alone with his miserable thoughts.

**Wakanda**

Steve stopped running and bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He felt so alive and in tune with his body when he ran. The wind in his hair and the sounds of nature filled him with some much energy. Wakanda was truly a place of wonderment and delight. The chirping of a flock of birds above him caught his attention and he looked up to admire their beauty. It was so peaceful and serene. It was like a little slice of heaven. It was no wonder the Wakandians worked so hard to keep their existence a secret from the world. They had no desire to let outsiders know how prosperous and advanced their civilization was. It was like they existed in their own time and world. They had their own rules and their own ways of doing things and life was peaceful.

Steve startled when a group of children came running past him, giggling and laughing as they did. Steve couldn't help but smile. He didn't really understand children, and he had to admit he'd been very surprised when he'd discovered that Clint had a family and kids. Not that Clint wasn't a good guy, he was for sure; it was just the archer always seemed so rough around the edges. Seeing Clint with his children had made Steve appreciate the man in a whole different way. Steve's heart ached a little whenever he saw children. He and Peggy never had the chance to get close enough to pursue marriage and children. He liked to think that given a chance, they would have been good parents together.

"Mr. Steve?"

Steve looked up upon hearing his name and was pleasantly surprised to see young Shuri walking up to him. She was a beautiful girl who always had a pleasant smile on her face. Steve had come to like her very much, especially with all she had done to help his friend, Bucky. T'Challa and Shuri were working diligently on a platform to help deprogram Bucky's brainwashing. They said they had high hopes for his complete healing. "Hello, Shuri," said Steve, warmly greeting her. "Nice to see you."

Shuri smiled at him kindly, "Thank you. You're very kind."

She walked quietly beside him for a bit, and Steve wondered what was weighing on her. "As much as I enjoy your company, I can't help but think something is bothering you."

She smiled again. "You're very astute, Mr. Steve."

Steve chuckled, knowing the teen girl was teasing him.

"I don't mean to be a bearer of bad news, but I feel like I must tell you about my worry for your ward."

Steve frowned. "Has Wanda done something wrong, Shuri?"

Shuri waved her hand dismissively. "No, no, and please do not mention this to my brother. He will be angry with me as he told me I should mind my own business. However, he is a man, and he doesn't see things as I do. I mentioned it to my mother, and she agreed with me that I should bring it to your attention, so I am."

Steve stopped walking and turned to look at Shuri with concern.

Shuri sighed. "She uses her red energy to manipulate things. I have often watched her from afar when she does it. She goes off by herself and finds an open area. It is very alarming, and I do not think she wants to do it. She looks tortured as she does it. Her face is distorted and tears fall down her cheeks, yet she hides away and does it day after day."

Steve furrowed his brows. "Manipulates things? What do you mean?"

Shuri looked down at her hands sadly. "I will show you. Follow me."

Steve followed Shuri quietly deep in thought as she led him on a hike to a place where he had not been before. It was a hidden in a wooded area about 20 minutes from the main compound where they were staying. After walking a bit, the treed area opened into a beautiful meadow with pretty wildflowers growing in abundance all around. The stunning scene took his breath away. The beauty of Wakanda was breathtaking and so untouched by pollution and greedy business tycoons. It was reminiscent of life long time ago.

"Over there…" Shuri pointed towards the waterfall. Steve could see Wanda in the distance manipulating the water. Shuri and Steve stood in silence while the girl whirled the liquid in a variety of ways, including submerging herself in it. Steve's heart skipped a beat when Wanda disappeared into it, but Shuri grabbed his arm. "Wait. She'll be fine. I've seen her do it before."

Sure enough, the water receded and dropped into the basin around her once more. Wanda then lifted rocks and trees from the ground and sent them flying towards the water. Steve heard her scream in frustration and pain.

"How often does she do this?"

Shuri shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. I noticed for the first time last week but today was more worrisome than before. Look closely at her arms and legs. I haven't seen her injure herself before."

Steve frowned at her words. "Oh, my," he muttered as he noticed the injuries on Wanda. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Why hadn't he noticed what she did during the day? He thought she stayed in her room for the most part. Whenever he checked on her, she was always held up there, refusing to come out. He took a few steps towards her but Shuri stopped him.

"Best not to disturb her. When she's like that, it's like she's in some kind of trance. I tried once to engage her and nearly lost a limb in the process."

"She tried to hurt you?"

"The red energy came in my direction until I backed off. Later, I asked her about it and she denied seeing me or knowing I was here. She doesn't seem to be aware of herself when she is like this."

Steve turned to stare at the scene before him. Wanda continued to fling debris all around, some of it landing in her hair and scratching and scraping her face and extremities.

"It's much worse today," commented Shuri, concern in her voice. "She didn't seem so angry the other days. I should get T'Challa." With those words, Shuri took off running towards the main house. Steve stood speechless. It was like Wanda was standing in the middle of a tornado and he felt helpless to stop it.

"Shuri, wait…" Steve tried to stop the girl but it was no use. Shuri was gone just as quickly as she appeared.

Steve turned back to Wanda. The girl's face was twisted in a mixture of pain and anger, her entire body tense as she wreaked havoc with her surroundings. The teen's feet lifted off the ground as the energy built up around her. Steve felt his heart rate pick up. In all the time he had known Wanda, he had not seen her so powerful and so disconnected. Any other time, she seemed like she had some kind of control of her powers. Now it was like she possessed and being controlled. It was terrifying to watch. His gut told him that he needed to be snapped out it…that he somehow needed to put her out of the spell she was under. He needed to try.

"Wanda!" he shouted towards her. He held up his hands and began to make his way into the violent energy storm. Debris and branches beat against his face and body as he pushed his way towards her. "Wanda, stop it! Do you hear me? You need to stop it this instant!" His voice was swallowed by the energy. Wanda's eyes glowed red as she surrounded herself in a red sphere of magnificent, powerful energy.

Steve pushed closer to her and continued to call to her. "You must stop this, Wanda. You must take control!" He struggled to get closer and reached out to touch her.

The touch caused the teen to spin around and face him, her face enraged and contorted. Steve's eyes widened in horrified disbelief. He had never seen her so disconnected, not since her brother died in Sokovia. It was like she was back there, reliving the moment when Pietro was killed. Wanda held her hands out towards him and the red energy was blasted in his direction.

"Wanda! NO!" he shouted, ducking and rolling onto his haunches to escape it. Steve had felt her power before when she's sent him flying down several flights of stairs. He knew she was powerful…probably more so than he. And without his shield, he really had no way to project that energy away from himself. Wanda had the ability to seriously injure or kill him.

He held up a hand to her. "Stop it! Wanda, you must stop this now before it consumes you."

Wanda's auburn hair floated around her head like a halo. Her face was pale and her eyes haunted and vacant. Tears ran down her cheeks in torrents.

From behind him, an arrow went sailing through the air catching Wanda in the shoulder. Steve spun on his heel to see Clint loading his bow once more.

"Clint! What are you doing?"

"Stopping the little witch!"

Wanda flinched from the impact of the arrow and toppled the ground. All at once the energy dissipated and everything stilled. Stones, branches, dirt and debris fell like bricks making a loud thudding noise.

Clint stood poised to take another shot, but Steve stepped in front of the girl protectively.

"You could have killed her!"

Clint stood his ground. "I never miss a target, Steve. I aimed for her shoulder; I hit her shoulder. She'll be fine."

Steve glared at him but turned to examine the teen girl lying on the ground. She was sobbing, holding her shoulder. Steve immediately fell to his knees at her side.

"Stay still. You'll be okay. Let me help you."

Wanda pushed him away. "No, let me alone!" She grimaced as she tried to stand up and toppled to the ground once more. Her hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders and her face was scratched and bruised. Tears still rolled down her cheeks. She looked bewildered and unsure of her surroundings.

Steve brushed a hand over her head as Clint dropped his bow to his side and returned the arrow to his quiver. He walked over and looked down at the girl with a sad expression on his face. He felt horrible wounding her, but it was his gut reaction when he saw her attempt to injure Steve.

"She could have torn you apart."

Steve shook his head. "She wouldn't have done that."

Clint looked at the quivering girl. She looked so helpless now, devoid of the power she displayed only seconds ago. She sobbed and shook making him feel like a monster.

"You need to let T'Challa contain that energy. You can't…"

Steve raised his hand to quiet his friend. He looked at Wanda shaking and crying. He carefully scooped her up in his arms and held her close to him. "It's a part of who she is, Clint. We need to help her learn to harness it. Taking it away or subduing it for her is not going to teach her self-control."

Wanda struggled to be free of him. "Let me go!" she moaned and as she did she flinched in pain. "Owww, it hurts so much."

"I know it does, sweetie; we'll make the pain go away soon, I promise. Hang in there."

Steve began walking and Clint fell into step walking quietly beside him. The pain had distracted Wanda and disarmed the energy that had taken control of her. It was terrible but Steve had to admit he was relieved. He hadn't been sure he'd be able to disarm her by himself. She was so incredibly strong and powerful…a force to be reckoned with.

"Thanks, man," said Steve softly as they walked.

Clint smiled and patted him on the back. "Don't mention it."


	4. Chapter 4

**New York**

Tony had spent countless hours tinkering, designing and inventing in his workshop. He did it for amusement, he did it to take his mind off things he should be focussing on and, yes, sometimes he did it for vengeance. His workshop was his escape from reality. It was his world. Just him, Dum-E and U, and sometimes Pepper, when she saw the need to drag him out of himself—out of his self-pity-and back into reality. When he was in his workshop, he was in control. He was in his man cave. His space just happened to be a little more extravagant than the average man's man cave. Then again, Tony Stark tended to be a little more eccentric then the average man.

Right now he sat staring at the watch on his wrist, activating and deactivating the gauntlet. It was just a simple piece of wrist jewelry until he activated it and even after he'd activated it, it was only powered enough to do a few things…a flashbang or a sound wave created more to garner attention than to be a weapon. Tony hated his thought process and himself as he planned to use it in a very different way to capture attention, namely the attention of a 15-year-old stubborn, web-slinging kid.

It had been painfully simple to alter. Tony couldn't believe what he was contemplating doing. He'd spent the better half of an hour having an internal argument with himself but in the end, as he massaged his still aching hand, he made his mind up. He just hoped he wasn't breaking some kind of moral code of ethics because his gut already ached enough. Instinctively, he knew he should call up the kid's aunt and let her deal with the delinquent spider. The trouble was Tony knew that the kid's aunt would never be able to keep him under control. It wasn't that Peter was a bad kid, he wasn't at all. He was a great kid, a polite kid, not to mention a brilliant kid but the point remained, he was still a kid. A kid who needed rules and well laid out consequences should said rules be broken. He was a 15 year old with superpowers and too many hormones running amuck. Peter Parker needed guidance, and preferable the guidance of a man, not an emotionally fraught wishy-washy aunt.

"Damn it," muttered Tony, deactivating the gauntlet once more. He needed to stop second-guessing himself and go to the kid before he lost his nerve.

Tony climbed the stairs slowly keeping his heart rate even. He didn't want the kid to see him as anything but calm, cool and collected. His mantra was never let them see you sweat. Kids could smell fear and they'd use it to their advantage. He should know. He'd been a master at manipulating his mother's emotions.

Tony reached a platform on an upper level and entered the elevator to the top floor where the penthouse of the tower was located. He knew Peter was still where he'd left him because FRIDAY would have told him otherwise. Tony hadn't worried about the kid taking off. One thing he knew about Peter is that for some strange reason, he respected Tony's authority. Knowing that just made what him feel just a little bit worse. Geez, why did people even have kids, anyway? The little monsters just needled their way under your skin and into your heart and then you felt obligated to protect them and keep them safe from their stupid, idiotic selves.

Entering the room silently, Tony wasn't noticed right away. The teenager sat still on the sofa where Tony had left him. Tony cleared his throat and Peter looked up in surprise immediately standing to his feet.

"Thought you had Spidey senses, kid."

Peter wiped at his eyes quickly but not before Tony noticed the tear tracks and the slight reddening of his cheeks.

"I do," mumbled the kid, almost defensively.

Tony walked in and sat down across from him. "Sit down, kid. We've both had some time to cool off so let's have a chat. Did you get a hold of your aunt?"

Peter sat and nodded, fidgeting with his hands. "Mr. Stark, are you really going to keep the suit forever? No second chances?"

Tony was deadpan. "My gut says, you bet your ass I am," Tony held up a finger to keep Peter from saying anything stupid, "But my common sense tells me that taking the suit isn't going to stop you from doing something asinine anyway. No, taking the suit isn't going to resolve the underlying issues here, is it Underoos?"

Peter's face paled. He had nothing to say in return because Tony was correct. He had a suit, albeit, a really crappy suit but a suit none-the-less. Nothing was going to stop him from going out as Spiderman. Not even Iron man was going to stop him from being who he was.

"W-what issues, Mr. Stark. I don't understand," managed Peter.

Tony smirked in amusement. Peter was pretty clever at playing dumb.

"Okay, I'll play," began Tony sitting up a little straighter. "Not so very long ago, Ironman pulled a naughty little spider out of the lake," Tony looked sharply at Peter. "Listen up, kiddies, this part is fascinating. Ironman told that mischievous spiderling to stay out of the danger business and stick to being a friendly neighbourhood superhero. Spider-baby could save some grannies from pickpockets or rescue a cat or two from a tree but other than that, he was to keep his skinny little butt far away from the really bad guys. This story sound vaguely familiar to you, Mr. Parker?"

Peter swallowed knowing it was best to keep his mouth shut at this point, instead he nodded.

"Good, we're on the same page. Well, apparently, for some unknown reason, our web-slinging friend decided it would be wise to go head to head with some really nasty supervillain on his own. While doing that, he almost killed himself along with hundreds of others. As it is, he created thousands of dollars of damage to personal property, not to mention a ferry being split in half!"

"That weapon going off was not my fault. I tried to stop it!" insisted Peter, weakly attempting to defend himself.

Tony's eyes opened just a little wider and he clucked his tongue. "Uh… Uh…uh… not your turn to talk yet. My story isn't quite done yet."

Peter closed his mouth and looked away.

"Now, Spiderling has this foxy looking aunt named May. Lucky guy! Aunts didn't look like that in my day. Anyway, May is oblivious to this naughty spider's web-slinging adventures. And apparently, he wants to keep it that way. Aunt May is supposed to happily raise her devious nephew to adulthood blissfully unaware of the fact that he risks his life almost daily." Tony Stark laughed out loud at this point. "And the funny thing about this whole story is that the baby spider thinks he will actually get away with it."

Tears burned in Peter's eyes. Tony Stark's words were hitting home and he was feeling very mighty guilty about deceiving his aunt. She deserved better than that. And, she would freak out if she found out. He would do just about anything to prevent that.

"I don't want her to worry," whispered Peter, half telling the truth and half not wishing to even speculate on what life would be like should May find out the about him.

Tony wagged his finger. "You see, on one hand, I do believe that. I do believe you genuinely care about her. But on the other, I know you are only saving your own skinny ass. You don't want her to know because you don't want to deal with her forbidding you to do it. You want to do what you want, when you want and screw everyone else."

Peter stood up. "That's not true!"

Tony crossed his legs calmly. "Sit down!"

Peter licked his dry lips and sighed in annoyance but sat down.

"I am prepared to help you keep this under wraps provided we come to a little understanding. Mr. Parker. You agree to a few things and we can make this work. You don't agree, and I am having a chat with your aunt. There is no third choice here."

Peter blinked. "Agree to what things?" His voice cracked.

Tony rose to his feet, walked over towards the large viewing window and stared out at the skyline. He stood there for several minutes before turning to face Peter with a stern look settling on his face. He held up a finger.

"Number one. Spiderman only goes out on evenings and weekends. School comes first. There are no exceptions. Even superheroes need something to fall back on and you're too damned smart to squander a good education. I have contributed to an excellent scholar fund at MIT and it has your name on it when you graduate. Don't let me down, kid."

Peter didn't say anything but nodded.

Another finger went up to join the other. "Number Two. No going after super villains with dangerous weapons by yourself. Leave that to the Avengers. You're not there yet, kid. Your suit has a babysitting protocol in it. I can see everything you can see. There is no way you can one-up me, Underoos, so don't even try. I'm serious, Pete. I'm not going to keep repeating myself here. You stick to the friendly neighbourhood kind of stuff. If you can do that, then Ironman and Spiderman can do some patrolling together once and while, and I'll feel out how you do with some bigger stuff. Once I can trust you with the little stuff, I will move you onto some bigger responsibilities. But you need to prove you are responsible enough! Great power comes with great responsibility, Pete. You get that right?"

Peter felt tears burn in the back of his eyes. His uncle had once said something similar to him, not in the same context, but still the meaning was the same. Peter again nodded.

A third finger went up. "This last one you're not gonna like, kid. Not even a little. But it's all part of the same deal. You screw up the first two rules then you deal with me. Number three. You disobey me or try to screw me over or mess with your suit or just generally piss me off and I'm going to discipline you." Peter's eyes widened as he watched Tony tinker with the watch on his wrist. Before his eyes, it transformed into a smaller version on the ironman glove from Tony's suit. It didn't quite cover his entire hand as his fingers were still visible but it was most definitely made of the same stuff as the suit. "We both saw earlier that a smack from my hand only hurts me. And damn, kid, I don't know what you're made out of, but I think you've got buns of steel under those jeans. My hand still aches from swatting you."

Peter couldn't stop the smile that came to his face.

"Yah, you can laugh now but that will end mighty quick if you mess with me," warned Tony and the smile melted away as fast as it came. "This gauntlet on my hand I guarantee you will feel, and I promise to use it on your errant little butt if you cross me again. You, my friend, are still a minor…a child and as long as your aunt doesn't know about this Spidey business, you're going to listen to me. Am I clear?"

Peter gulped and his line of vision went right to Tony's hand. The man was still holding it up, allowing Peter to get a good look at it. Peter didn't even want to imagine what a swat from that hand would feel like. Maybe it would hurt, maybe it wouldn't, but he wasn't sure he was willing to find out just how strong he really was. Tony could be totally bluffing him.

Tony took a few steps towards Peter, almost like he could read his mind. "Am I clear, Peter?"

"I…I…don't think that's legal, Mr. Stark…to, uh, hit minors that…uh…aren't related to you…and umm…my Aunt May…she…uh, well, I don't really want you to…and…that would probably hurt…so uh, yah, it's clear." Peter rambled quickly as his face went from pale to a dark red.

"I've done worse that's illegal, kid, and if this can keep you on the straight and narrow than I'm willing to risk it. If May finds out later and wants to sue my butt than I guess that's my problem but for now, that is the deal. Take it or leave it."

Peter fidgeted with his hands a little but remained quiet.

Tony walked towards him, deactivating the gauntlet. "I'll give you the evening to think it over, Pete, but I want you to know something. Regardless of what you decide, I'm still deciding if your reckless butt needs to meet the gauntlet over the whole ferry fiasco. And I'm pissed you messed with the suit. I trusted you, kid and that trust has been broken. I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to deal with that yet."

Peter clenched his fists, not really liking the sound of the threat.

Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed it. "Yo, Hap, Pete is spending the night. Can you toss another burger on the grill and show him to his room?"

Peter could hear Happy faintly in the background but Tony hung up on him.

"I have some work to do, kid. I'll see you in the morning."

**Wakanda**

T'Challa came into the room and smiled kindly at Clint and Steve. Both men were reclining in silence staring out the window. T'Challa walked to the window and looked out as well. Steve rose to his feet and joined the man at the window.

"How is she?"

T'Challa placed a hand on Steve's shoulder in comfort. "She'll be just fine. We've removed the arrow." T'Challa turned to Clint with a kind smile on his face. "You are quite the marksmen, Mr. Barton. You didn't damage anything vital."

Clint nodded with confidence. "I know. I never miss a shot." He didn't. Ever.

"So, no permanent damage?" persisted Steve.

"None whatsoever. She'll be tender for a few days but with our expertise, the healing will be accelerated." T'Challa pinched his nose carefully, looking conflicted. "I need to speak with you both…"

Steve cleared his throat and stared out the window blankly. He knew where this was leading and he knew he wasn't going to like it.

"First, I want to apologise for my sister's nosiness. I warned her to mind her own business. She has a habit of meddling in others affairs…"

Clint stood to his feet, stretching out his back. "Sounds like a normal teen girl to me. How old is Shuri?"

"14 going onto 30. My mother does her best to rein her in, but often I feel the need to step in. It's not my place really, and it makes my mother feel unsettled. Shuri is highly intelligent, a genius really, but also very much a child. She lacks self-control and wisdom on life but she means well. I do genuinely believe she wanted to befriend your ward. I know she never meant to intrude on the girl's privacy."

Steve turned, sticking his hands in his pockets forlornly. "Shuri is a delightful girl, T'Challa. You have no need to apologize for her. I'm glad she spied on Wanda and told me. I'm not entirely sure what would have happened if we hadn't discovered her today."

Clint scratched the back of his head. "Can we see her?"

"My mother and Shuri are with her right now. I hope that's okay. My mother has a way with Shuri when she is upset. I thought she'd be able to help Wanda too."

Steve nodded and walked back to the chairs to sit down. T'Challa and Clint followed suit, both sitting down in the large, comfortable recliners overseeing the spectacular landscape. Steve remained sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You want to harness her powers, don't you?" asked Steve, not one to mince words and wanting to cut directly to the chase.

"I feel that is safer for everyone, Captain Rodgers. You cannot control her. You saw that for yourself, and I don't think Mr. Barton wants to shoot her every time she loses control of herself."

Clint leaned forward as well. "I feel like crap about that."

Steve smiled sympathetically. "I know, Clint; it's okay."

T'Challa leaned back more and crossed his legs. "My mother thinks we should just do it casually and gradually without her knowledge. She won't notice because it will be so subtle. She will still keep her abilities but she won't have the power to hurt anyone or herself."

"She will notice," said Steve, knowing that he would notice immediately if his powers were suddenly withdrawn or depleted. Wanda's abilities were part of who she was and there was no way she wouldn't notice the drain. "I know we're staying in Wakanda because of your graciousness in granting us asylum. We appreciate it and don't wish to stick our noses up at your authority. I just beg of you to second guess this decision. Taking Wanda's powers from her is like taking part of her very being. Her telekinetic abilities are part of her chemical makeup, and I want her to learn to control them. She can't do that if she's being dialled back."

T'Challa nodded his understanding. "I can appreciate that, and I hear you, but I cannot allow her to endanger my people, Captain Rodgers. You can understand that, can't you?"

Steve sighed and nodded. He did understand and while every single part of him disagreed with it, he had to respect the decision. One thing Steve could do was honour and respect authority. They were seeking sanctuary in another country and the least he could do was honour its rules.

Steve stood up again and reached out a hand in amity. "I do, and I thank you. We owe you a debt we can never repay, T'Challa."

T'Challa nodded and stood up, shaking hands with Steve. "It is our pleasure, Mr. Rodgers. Believe me, I understand your plight and even agree with your stance. Sometimes it's a matter of the greater good." He looked at Clint and nodded. "I must go. Wanda should be ready to see you now."

Clint remained quiet, as did Steve, as T'Challa walked away. Steve ran a hand through his short, blonde hair. His jaw clenched several times before he turned to face Clint.

"So, any bright ideas, Cap?" said Clint.

Steve deadpanned. "I was hoping you'd have some, Clint. You're the dad here. I'm the 100-year-old war hero."

Clint chuckled as he stood up once again. "Well, we might as well go face the music. I'm pretty sure she's gonna be pissed at me."


	5. Chapter 5

**New York**

Peter sat on the bed in the room he'd been shown. Looking around, he couldn't help but notice that the room was somehow meant for him. It was decorated like any teen boy's dream room complete with a big screen television and gaming system, shelves full of books on his interest level and a bunch of brand new Lego sets he'd never seen before. If it had been under other circumstances, Peter would have dived into the sets and been lost in paradise for hours.

But this wasn't other circumstances. It was now and now seriously sucked.

Peter didn't even know how long he'd been sitting thinking and staring into space after Happy had brought him supper. Tony's idea of throwing a burger on the grill had actually meant sirloin steak, maple pecan sweet potatoes and buttery vegetables complete with a large slice of apple pie for dessert. Peter couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten such a feast, not that his Aunt May wasn't a good cook; she was. But normally during the school week, they ate simple meals like homemade mac and cheese or something simple like that. Sirloin steak sure beat Mac and cheese any day. Peter, despite being upset, managed to polish off the entire meal. Ever since he'd become Spiderman, his appetite was ferocious. He could pretty much eat all the time.

Laying back on the bed and putting his hands behind his head, Peter stared at the ceiling. A full stomach left him with nothing to do but think about the day and what had gotten him to where he was now. He was staying with Tony at Stark Towers, in the man's penthouse, in what looked like his own room created for him by Mr. Stark himself and currently, in his mentor's eyes, his name was pretty much mud. Peter had shoved Tony Stark. Peter groaned at the memory. The Tony Stark…billionaire, philanthropist…Iron man himself. What had he been thinking? Peter smacked his forehead. Then Tony Stark had actually smacked him. Smacked him like he was a little kid! Peter could still remember the sharp sting. It had faded as quickly as it had come but the feeling was forever burnt in his mind. And, Tony Stark threatened to do it again, only this time with a ready-made, altered for him gauntlet. Worse yet, if it was even possible to be anything worse, the man had said clear as day that he'd lost trust in him. Tears burned in Peter's eyes as he remembered the words. He'd really screwed up this time. Normally, he'd be more remorseful but a small part of him was angry with the billionaire inventor too, only Peter was too afraid to speak up for himself when Tony was so pissed. It seemed like the angrier the man was, the more biting the sarcasm was that came from him. Peter wasn't a huge fan of the sarcasm.

Just then his phone vibrated in his pocket. Peter pulled it out to see it was Ned texting him.

Peter sat up and leaned against the wall. He opened the text conversation and stared at it. What was he going to say to Ned anyway?

_Ned: Dude, we're supposed to be working on our science experiment. I showed up at your apartment, and your aunt said you're staying the night at Stark Tower. Is that true?_

_ Peter: It's true._

_ Ned: Dude!_

Peter felt a smirk come to his face. He could just see his best friend since kindergarten's face in his mind's eye. Ned was always over animated.

_Peter: Did you see the story about the Ferry on the news?_

_ Ned: Yes! What happened, Pete? The guy on the news said Spiderman and Ironman saved all those people. That's awesome, man! Why didn't you tell me you were working with Ironman? That's so cool! And why are you at Stark Tower? What's going on?_

_ Peter: It's complicated, Ned, and I can't really get into it right now. I'll call you tomorrow and I promise I'll tell you all about it, okay?_

Peter waited for Ned's response and wasn't surprised when his cell phone rang in his hands. Peter sighed. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to his friend. He did. He just didn't know how to wrap his head around everything yet so there was no way he could explain the situation to Ned yet. Peter declined the call and continued to text_. I can't talk right now, Ned. Mr. Stark and I are kinda in the middle of something. I'll call you tomorrow. I promise._ It wasn't a complete lie. They were in the middle of something, just right now Peter had been left on his own to stew in his decision-making endeavours. He didn't exactly know why he needed so much time, but apparently Mr. Stark liked to drag out the evitable.

_ Ned: Okay, Peter, but you better call me first thing tomorrow. I'm dying here._

Peter smiled. His friend was ever the drama major.

_Peter: I will. Chill, dude. Talk to you later._

_ Ned: Later._

Peter set his phone on do not disturb. The last thing he needed was anyone else trying to call him tonight. He already had enough on his plate. He stood up and set his phone on the side table. He opened the dresser to find some new pajamas in his size. Peter fingered them gingerly. The whole thing was just so bizarre. Had Mr. Stark intended to invite him here for the night on another occasion? He thought the man didn't want to have anything to do with him yet this room said otherwise. It would have taken some planning and time to make him his own space. And Peter thought the tower was for sale anyway. Hadn't Mr. Stark said he and the Avengers were moving to a bigger facility? The compound, he'd called it?

"Geepers, what am I supposed to do all night?" he mumbled to himself.

A computerized voice from above him spoke just then. "Sleep would probably be the best idea right now, Mr. Parker."

Peter's eyes widened and he spun around looking to see where the voice was coming from.

"Who's there?" asked Peter, feeling somewhat disconcerted.

"I'm sorry to frighten you, Mr. Parker. My name is FRIDAY. I am Mr. Stark's computer interface system."

Peter blinked. He shouldn't have been surprised that Tony Stark had a computer system networked throughout his penthouse. It was just something Tony would do.

"Where is Mr. Stark?"

"Currently, he is in his workshop, Mr. Parker. Do you need him?"

Peter shook his head. "NO, no, that's okay. I just wondered, is all."

"Mr. Stark said to let you know that you can contact me anytime should you need him."

Peter nodded in response, not really thinking that the computer system wouldn't be able to read his body language. He began to pace the room. What was he supposed to do now? Maybe he should just leave and go home. Mr. Stark wouldn't even know he was gone, and he would sleep better in his own bed. No, that probably wouldn't be the best idea. More than anything he didn't want his aunt to find out about him being Spiderman. Mr. Stark had made it very clear that he would inform his aunt if he didn't agree with his terms.

Peter picked up the pillow on the bed and fired it at the wall. It wasn't fair that Stark was sticking his nose in his business. He'd been doing fine on his own before Stark found his video on YouTube. Apparently, there was no way to bullshit a bullshitter, or so the man had said when he brought him to Germany. The man had needed his help back then or he wouldn't have taken him. Why was the billionaire being so parental now all of a sudden? He didn't seem to care so much last time. What had changed?

Peter kicked at the wall indignantly. He felt like he was trapped with nowhere to turn. "This is crap!" The wall dented and some of the drywall gave way to his foot, leaving a hole when he pulled it away. Peter's eyes widened in horror when he saw the damage.

"Oh, shit!" he muttered, stooping to look at the hole he'd left. He always forgot how strong he was since he'd received his enhanced abilities. Kicking the wall should have hurt his foot, not ruined the wall. He groaned loudly. Why did his life have to be so complicated? Somehow he didn't think Mr. Stark was going to be very impressed to see a foot sized hole in his wall.

"FRIDAY, what's Mr. Stark doing now?" asked Peter, nervously.

"Mr. Stark is still in his workshop. He asked me to tell you to go to sleep. It's past your bedtime."

Peter groaned again. There was no way he could be expected to sleep with this stuff hanging over his head.

"Tell him I'll go to bed when I'm good and ready and not before!" snapped Peter, feeling grouchy at being told what to do. It wasn't even past 11 yet and the next day was Saturday. He often stayed up and watched movies with his Aunt May on Friday nights. Going to bed at 11 was an insult.

"Mr. Stark said he would be willing to help you get ready for bed if you would like, Mr. Parker?"

Peter's eyes widened. Wait! What? Help him get ready for bed? What was that even supposed to mean?

"NO! Tell him I'm fine."

"Very well, Mr. Parker."

"Call me Peter, FRIDAY. Mr. Parker sounds like an old man's name."

"Very well, Peter."

Peter pulled out the pyjamas and put them on much to his annoyance. He couldn't sleep in his jeans so he might as well get comfortable, although, had he been home he would have just as well slept in his boxers. Pyjamas were for little kids, not teenage superheroes. Peter wandered over to the large window in his room and looked out over the skyline. How did people even see anything from up here? From his window at home, he could see if someone needed his help. Of course, he knew it wouldn't take much with his webs to get down to ground level. That's where he really should be. People needed Spiderman. Friday nights were always high crime nights. It was totally retarded that he was stuck here waiting for morning to talk to Tony. There was no reason why they couldn't talk now and then Peter could be on his way and doing what he did best.

But just what was he going to say? Was he going to agree to Tony's terms? Did he have any other choice? And was the man going to keep the suit forever if he refused his terms? Peter found he had more questions than answers.

"FRIDAY, could you tell Mr. Stark I'm ready to talk to him now?"

Peter waited for a response but none came. Had the AI gone off line for the night? Did computer system interfaces go offline by themselves?

"FRIDAY, are you there?" he asked again.

"Mr. Stark said you are to go to sleep, and he will talk with you in the morning."

Peter sighed. "That's so bogus! I'm ready to talk now!" insisted Peter. Was he really, though? What was he going to say? "Tell him I want to talk now, FRIDAY!"

"Very well, Peter."

Peter stood up and wandered towards the door, exiting his room. If Mr. Stark wasn't going to come to him, he'd do some searching around and find the man on his own. The Stark tower was huge but the multi-billion dollar workshop couldn't be that hard to find. Peter always secretly wanted to see what it looked like anyway. Leaving his room, he wandered down the hallway towards the upper floor elevators. He pushing the button and waited for the elevator.

"Mr. Stark insists you retire for the evening, Peter. He is busy in his workshop and does not wish to be disturbed."

"Never mind, FRIDAY; if he won't come to me, I'll look for him. What level is Mr. Stark's workshop located on?"

"The lower level, sir, but I must inform him of your presence."

The elevator came and Peter entered it still dressed in his new pyjamas. "No, FRIDAY, I would like it to be a surprise. Please don't tell him."

"Very well, Peter."

~~~HEROES~~~

Tony rolled from underneath one of his old junk heaps in his workshop. As much as he liked new toys, he enjoyed his old toys just as much. He'd been tinkering around with an old '69 charger for a while now. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it, but he enjoyed the nostalgia that it brought him. Tony rose to his feet and wiped his hands off on a rag he kept in his back pocket. His mind would not rest this evening. His thoughts kept wandering back to Peter. What was he going to do with the kid? Was it even ethical to not inform the kid's legal guardian of his activities? Tony didn't have a problem with putting the kid under his wing, but he just wasn't sure how much of a pain in the ass the kid was going to be. He hadn't even had time to discuss matters with Pepper. She usually was his voice of reason, but she was away on business and wouldn't be back until the following week. Somehow, Tony was going to have to figure this one out on his own.

Tony walked over to the mini-fridge and grabbed out a bottle of water. He wanted to stay stone-cold sober tonight as he deliberated how he was going to handle tomorrow. He'd made up his mind about a few things but as time went on, he waivered too. He still didn't know why people chose to have kids when they had to do such dreadful things as discipline. The fun and games were alright but dealing with the disobedience? Not so fun!

"How's the kid doing, FRIDAY?" asked Tony for the fifth time in the past hour. FRIDAY was able to monitor Peter's activities and listen in on what he was doing. She wasn't so much a snoop as a good babysitter. "Has he fallen asleep yet?"

"Peter is not asleep yet, Mr. Stark."

Tony frowned as he looked at his watch. It was nearly 11:30. Weren't kids supposed to be asleep at this time of night? Didn't they need like 10 hours of sleep or something like that to help them grow?

"Why isn't he sleeping, FRIDAY?" he felt compelled to ask. "Is he sick or something?"

An odd noise from outside his glassed-in workshop captured his attention and he soon understood why Peter Parker wasn't sleeping. Coming down the steps looking a little sheepish was the teenager himself. The kid stopped when he reached the foot of the steps and stopped cold. The fifteen-year old's mouth dropped open and he stood to stare in complete wonderment as his eyes feasted on the billionaire's magnificent workshop. Tony sighed loudly in exasperation as he quickly swept away all his open computer holograms. The kid was going to drive him into an early grave if he didn't learn to follow instructions and respect his wishes.

Tony walked over to the glass doors and pushed a code to allow Peter entrance into the room. As Peter walked in, the boy's eyes greedily drank up his surroundings, all but forgetting about why he'd come down to see Tony in the first place.

"W-wow, Mr. Stark! This place is unbelievable!" stammered Peter, walking around and taking in everything as quickly as possible.

Tony's hands found his hips as he walked behind Peter. The kid just kept walking and spinning in circles as he took in everything in the workshop. Tony didn't know if he should break the trance the kid was in or not. It was almost amusing to watch. Tony felt a tinge of regret that he hadn't invited the kid to his workshop before now, under different circumstances. The Stark Internship had been a ruse for the kid's aunt but the truth was, the kid was brilliant and Peter could probably learn a lot from Tony.

"I think I've figured out what the problem is, Pete," said Tony suddenly, bringing Peter's trance to an end and causing the teenager to spin on his heel to face Tony. "You are physically incapable of following directions."

Peter blinked dumbly.

Tony walked towards him and stopped directly in front of him invading the kid's personal bubble. He stared at the teenager long and hard, enough so that the boy self-consciously swallowed and took a step backward.

"FRIDAY, did I not ask Peter to retire for the evening?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark, you did ask Peter to retire for the evening."

"I thought so, but I thought it was worth asking in case, for some reason, I may have been wrong."

Peter licked his dry lips. "I-I'm ready to talk now, Mr. Stark."

Tony scratched the side of his head. "Well, I'm finished talking for tonight, kid. Did you ever stop to consider that? Maybe, I have talked myself blue in the face tonight and wanted some time to cool off."

Peter looked away, looking more uncertain than when he'd first entered the room.

"I…uh…well, I just wanted to tell you that…umm…not that I like the whole idea but since you kinda…I actually don't think my aunt would approve…umm, but I know she wouldn't approve of me being Spiderman either…and so, yah, I guess I agree…that is, I accept your rules, Mr. Stark only maybe you won't use that gauntlet contraption because….well…er…it kinda freaks me out, sir."

Tony crossed his arms as he listened to the kid ramble and trip over his words. Tony wasn't sure what to make out of what he said. Between the rambling, shaking and cracks in the kid's voice, it was hard to discern.

"You seriously need to learn to speak English, Kid. Can you repeat that but a lot slower and coherently?"

Peter took a deep breath. "It's a deal, Mr. Stark. I will stick to your rules if you promise not to tell my Aunt May."

Tony nodded. "Alright." He held out his hand to his young protégé. "Shall we shake on it?"

Peter reached out and firmly shook Tony's hand, a small smile touching his lips.

"Okay, now that that is over, how about you sit down on the sofa over there and the two of us with come to an agreement on how I should punish you."

**Wakanda**

Steve took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Wanda's room. Clint leaned against the wall beside him and crossed his arms. When no answer greeted him, Steve knocked again.

"One knock, wait a moment for modesty sake and enter," muttered Clint, rolling his eyes at Steve's old fashioned propriety.

"What?" asked Steve, looking at Clint in confusion. Clint shrugged.

Steve knocked again. "Wanda, may we come in?" Still, no answer came.

"Open the door," growled Clint loudly.

Steve frowned. "Clint, what if she isn't…?"

Clint rolled his eyes impatiently and reached for the handle. "Coming in, kid. Better be decent." With those words of warning, he threw the door open and entered the room.

Steve sighed, shaking his head and walked in behind him. Wanda was sitting on the bed with one arm in a sling. Her face was bandaged in a few places and she wore a scowl on her face that made Clint groan. He'd seen the defiant look before; it was the kind of look that just begged for a battle of wills, but Clint wasn't in the mood. He wasn't about to climb into the boxing ring with her or any other kid for that matter. He'd been a parent for too long to buy into that crap.

"Knock the chip off your shoulder, Wanda. We're no mood for your histrionics."

Clint saw Steve toss him an irritated glare; Clint shook his head and sat down. He figured he'd watch the show awhile before he said anything else. He was okay with seeing the Captain crash and burn.

Steve approached the bed and his eyes widened when he saw the bruises and scrapes on the girls' face. He hated seeing her injured and so terribly lost. She was hurting so badly and pushing them away. He'd never felt at such a loss to know what to do. He wanted to draw her into his arms and comfort her. He wanted to take away the pain in her eyes and show her that she was loved and cared for…and that she didn't need to keep running in fear of letting people in. She used to listen to him once upon a time but now she shut him out. She shut everyone out. He sat down beside her, reaching out to touch her arm.

"Are you okay?"

Wanda didn't look up at him but instead glared at Clint. She pulled away from Steve and brought her hands together, her fingers glowing with red energy threateningly. Clint raised a brow at Steve, annoyance written all over his face.

Steve placed his warm hand on hers. "You can't handle problems with threats, Wanda." He squeezed her hand lovingly, hoping she'd look at him and see the concern and love in his eyes.

"Who's threatening?" she hissed, pulling her hands away and lifting them higher. A beam of red light slithered around her fingers like a red glowing serpent.

Steve sighed. "Stop it," he warned her sternly, his voice still soft and gentle.

Clint chuckled to himself. "Yep, that'll scare her into submission, Cap."

Steve tossed a glare in Clint's direction. Steve didn't want to scare her. He didn't want to be some kind of domineering father figure. He wanted to be her friend.

Wanda continued to allow the serpent to build up energy around her fingers.

"Wanda, I said that's enough. Stop it!" Steve's voice became louder and firmer.

"He shot me!" she snapped.

"You're damned straight I did. And if you ever threaten or attempt to hurt one of us again, I'll do more than that, little girl! What were you thinking?" Clint closed his eyes and silently rebuked himself for not keeping his mouth shut and letting Cap burn first. He had zero tolerance for belligerence from anyone let alone a kid. He couldn't stomach it.

Wanda's eyes lit up and her face distorted. Her anger was building again and Steve clenched his jaw at it all. Being nice and calm wasn't working, and he felt like he was going to need to come down on her harshly and that was highly inappropriate no matter how he felt.

Steve leaned in closer getting right into her personal bubble. "Don't make me say it again!" This time his voice was unyielding. Wanda's eyes widened and the energy dispersed. Clint nodded his head in approval; he was impressed. The Cap had balls after all.

Steve remained in position staring at her severely as her face took on a more contrite expression.

"Now, how about you tell me what you were doing in that meadow today. What happened?"

Wanda drew her knees up under her chin. "Queen Ramonda will be back."

Steve softened. "That's okay. We can talk until she comes back."

"Shuri shouldn't have snitched."

"She didn't, Wanda. She was worried about you."

"I could handle it."

Clint chuckled and Steve shot him a look.

"What?" said Clint.

"Wanda, tell me what happened out there?"

She fidgeted a little but hid her face in her knees. "Sometimes, the energy is strong, and I have to release it."

Steve was quiet a moment. "You were hurting yourself. Was that on purpose?"

Wanda didn't answer.

"Sweetheart, when the energy gets that strong, who controls it? Do you control it? Or does it control you?" asked Steve. His voice sounded saccharine, even to himself. He was trying to maintain his patience. He had a lot of questions and only so much compassion. As much as he wanted to understand and sympathize with the girl, he didn't want to jeopardize their asylum. Bucky was still on ice while they worked on a cure to the brainwashing. T'Challa wouldn't go back on his promises but Steve didn't want to wear out their welcome either. Time was of the essence. Wanda needed to learn self-control while they were in Wakanda, so she would be ready for the important tasks once they left.

Wanda shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."

Steve put a hand on the blanket where her foot rested. She pulled her foot away, wrapping her uninjured arm tighter around her legs. "You have to, Wanda. I need to know. You need to have control over yourself or be taught how. You cannot be out of control because that puts you and others in danger. Understand me?"

"Go away!" Wanda moaned into her knees.

Steve looked at Clint and shrugged his shoulders. Clint raised a brow as if asking Steve if he was finished yet. Many an unspoken word flew between them before Steve's shoulders dropped. It was a sign of concession. It was Clint's turn.

Clint rose to his feet and stood beside the bed, thoughtfully looking at the young girl hiding her face. He leaned over and squirrelled a finger under her chin, cupping it gently and bringing it up to his eye level.

"Yah, that's not gonna happen, little girl. We need to talk and that means you, me and the Captain here. So, you need to sit up, pay attention and start answering our questions or else things are going to go from bad to worse and you're gonna like me even less than you do now. Catch my drift?"

Steve heaved a loud sigh and Wanda's eyes grew large and unsure."Always the heavy, aren't you?"

Clint tipped his head and released Wanda's chin. "It gets the job done."

Steve stood up, walking across the room to the window. "Listen, Wanda. Remember in Nigeria when you caught the explosion?" He turned to look at her and Wanda's eyes filled with tears. "You couldn't control the energy then, could you? You gave it all you could but still lost control." Tears spilled over her cheeks. "Today in the meadow, sweetheart, you were not in control either. That energy was tearing you apart."

"I could handle it. I was handling…"

Steve shook his head. "No, honey, you weren't. That energy was tearing you to pieces and you would have hurt me too if Clint hadn't have stopped you."

Wanda stood to her feet, her fists in the air. "Shut up! You don't know anything about me!"

Steve nodded calmly. "I know I don't, but you and I have been working on that, haven't we? We spend months and months tempering and harnessing that energy until you could master it."

Clint stuck his hands in his pockets as he listened. He'd been back home with his family when Steve assembled and trained the new Avengers Team. Steve was one hell of a soldier. He knew how to train recruits. He was a tactical genius.

"Why are you allowing yourself to lose control now?"

Wanda brushed tears off her cheeks. "Because."

Steve frowned and took several steps closer to her. "Because?"

"I'm a freak, Steve and you know it! I was created to manipulate and destroy. There is no good in me." Tears fell down her cheeks as she spoke.

Steve shook his head. "Wanda, that's not true."

"It is true and you know it," she snapped, energy building around her once more.

Steve reached out and grasped her wrist. "NO! Don't even think of starting that again!" He shook her for emphasis. The energy quickly was zapped away.

"You and I are no different. I was created to be a super soldier and your powers were created by Hydra."

"And both of us did it by choice, only you did it for the greater good! I wanted revenge!"

Steve took her by the shoulders and lightly shook her, being mindful of her injuries. "You did want revenge, but that changed, didn't it?" He shook her again more forcefully. "Didn't it?"

Wanda looked up at him and pulled away. She took a few steps back and waved her fingers towards him. Before Steve could say another word he was thrown back into time. He found himself back when he and the Avengers had infiltrated the Hydra base and first discovered the Maximoff twins.

"Don't worry," Strucker was saying, "I know when I'm beaten. You'll mention how I cooperated, I hope."

"I'll put it right under illegal human experimentation," he found himself saying but this time he was acutely aware of Wanda sneaking up behind him. "How many are there?" he heard himself say. This time when Wanda raised her hands to throw him, he grabbed her before she could succeed. Then he felt himself being jerked harshly back and he found himself back in the infirmary with Clint and Wanda.

He grabbed his head and moaned in pain.

"That's it, kid. You've just managed to hit my last nerve," snapped Clint, pulling the girl towards him and sitting down. Steve blinked a few times as his vision cleared and saw Clint pin the girl between his legs.


	6. Chapter 6

**New York**

Peter's eyes grew as large as saucers as he froze in place. "P-punish?" he stammered.

Tony casually slung an arm over the teenager's shoulder and led him over to the nearby sofa. Peter didn't put up much of a fight but continued staring at Tony like a deer caught in headlights. Tony gave him a little push and the kid plopped down on the sofa like a dead weight.

"You pulled the tracker out of the suit, Pete. You messed around with the suit's capabilities and you lied to me! If you think those things are okay, you're wrong!" Tony stood over the boy, being intimidating very much on purpose. Tony was desperate to make a huge impression on the youngster now so they would never find themselves in this position again.

Peter sat staring up at him but remained quiet.

"Don't look so shell-shocked, kid. You're telling me your aunt doesn't punish you when you screw up?"

Peter blinked. "Uh, well, yah, sure, she does but…like she grounds me or uh… gives me extra chores or something. S-she doesn't own anything like…uh…that…" whispered Peter, eying Tony's wristwatch.

Tony followed the kid's line of sight and saw what Peter was most worried about. Tony bit back a smirk and tucked away the knowledge for later. He found it very interesting to note that Peter seemed to be most worried about him using the gauntlet. Tony had no idea if that threat would ever see the light of day but if the promise worked, he was willing to go with it. The less the kid knew the better and a small part of Tony didn't figure it would make much of an impact anyway. Having it hover in the air like a big scary monster suited Tony just fine. Tony had seen Peter being tossed around like a ragdoll, thrown into buildings and slammed to the ground; a few swats from his hand paled in comparison. Being afraid of the unknown was a heavy motivator.

"Well, I don't think grounding would work since you don't live with me. I can't take your cell phone away because while I can still track you, your aunt couldn't. The whole idea is to make sure your aunt doesn't find out and that you stay out of danger. Giving you extra chores seems like a waste of time. So, I'm at a loss here, kid, and running out of ideas."

Peter's face paled and he swallowed hard. "I'm s-sorry, Mr. Stark. Please believe me. I just wanted to try and handle things on my own. I admit when I found out about the training wheels application on the suit, I was…"

"How'd you discover that?"

"Uh, well, me and Ned were looking for the tracker to remove it because Happy called and reamed me out for leaving town for the decathlon and…"

"Happy was keeping an eye on you for your own safety, kid. I've been a little busy with figuring out the move of the Avengers…"

Peter fidgeted. "I know, Mr. Stark, it's just when I found out I was being tracked, I felt like it was an invasion of my privacy and uh…"

"Look, Pete, that suit is very technologically advanced. It would be negligent of me to give it to you and just let you have at it."

Peter stood to his feet making Tony step back. "But I just thought it was just a cool suit. How was I to know you made it into some kind of Spiderman superweapon? I'm not a kid, Mr. Stark. You should have warned me. I was Spiderman before you met me, remember?" Peter's voice was not disrespectful, just matter of fact.

Tony's hands clenched at his sides. "Peter, that's what you don't get. You are still a kid. Stop being in such a hurry to grow up! Enjoy the ride."

Peter sighed and sat back down. "Easy for you to say."

Tony took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Well, maybe we both made some mistakes. But you were never supposed to know about the suits perks until you were ready, probably not even until you were eighteen and an adult. In time, I planned to train you myself. That's why I needed you to stick low to the ground and help out the little guy for a while."

Peter could not keep the look from surprise from his face. Mr. Stark had planned to train him? The man had practically ignored him for two months straight. It was very hard for Peter to believe.

"You once said you can't bullshit a bullshitter, Mr. Stark. I call bullshit."

Tony laughed out loud. "Man, if only Cap was here, kid. He'd so appreciate this moment."

Peter did not see the amusement at all.

Tony tossed his hands up in the air in frustration. "You seriously don't get it, do you?" Tony began to pace in front of Peter. "It must be a kid thing. It has to be a kid thing." Tony stopped and pointed at Peter. "Life doesn't revolve around you, Pete. You're a kid. Your job is to go to school, get good grades, kiss a girl or two and graduate. Leave the rest to the adults. No one asked you to save the planet. It's great that you have that passion but, for Pete's sake, you are a kid. It's not your job yet."

"It is my job, Mr. Stark! I'm ready! I have been given enhanced abilities. It would be wrong to just sit on them when people need me."

Tony pointed a finger at Peter. "NO, kid! You've proven that you're not ready. You're impulsive and lack self-control. You have no idea how to handle the big stuff yet but that's okay, you're not supposed to. You're young and you can be trained but the first thing you need to realise is that you are a damned kid, not an adult. It's your time to learn about life. Are you listening to me?"

Peter groaned. "I can do it, Mr. Stark!"

Tony leaned in close, resting one arm on the side of the sofa. "No. Just accept the word, Mr. Parker. You and I will get along a lot better if you just heed it from here on in."

Peter crossed his arms in a huff.

Tony straightened up. He looked at the stubborn kid in front of him. It was becoming obvious to him that the kid wasn't going to be easy to tame. Peter had his own mind which wasn't a bad thing but it certainly didn't make his life any easier.

"Geez, kid. How does your aunt handle your obstinacy?"

"How do the rest of the Avengers handle yours?" Peter snapped.

Tony lifted a brow. Peter Parker surprised him sometimes. He liked the kid's tenacity. He was going to go places in life with that kind of determination. Peter wasn't going to let people push him around but he was also endearing and likeable. It was a nice mix, but it also was a pain in Tony's side. Peter needed to learn that he was a kid and not the one in charge. Tony had no doubt that one day the kid would very easily slide into a position of leadership but now was not that time. Now, he needed to learn his place.

"I'll let that one slide, Mr. Parker."

Peter was on his feet right then. "Don't do me any favours!"

Tony's eyes darkened. "You keep trying to pick a fight with me tonight, don't you? What's the deal? Are you pissed at me or just really wanting a showdown between us?"

Peter narrowed his eyes and his jaw visibly clenched. "For two months, you've ignored me. I've been web-slinging all over Queens. I've checked in with Happy every night and reported everything to him. Not a peep from him or you. Hell, Happy doesn't even text back and you, well, YOU didn't even give me your contact information! How the hell could I have told you anything, huh? You obviously didn't care a rat's ass about me. Why the change of heart?"

"Did Happy answer when you called?" demanded Tony, growing bored with the kid's attitude.

"Well, yah, but I only called if it was important stuff."

"And?" Tony prodded, still looking for the reason why Peter was so angry.

Peter stammered a little, looked flustered but then closed his mouth. He didn't have anything to say in response to that.

"I told you that I was busy, kid. That wasn't a lie. Do you have any idea how complicated things are with the Sokovia accords and the split-up of the Avengers? Things are messed up, Peter. I've got a lot of my plate right now and listening to you sharing about rescuing treed cats is just not on my radar right now. I'm sorry if that hurt your feelings."

Peter blinked back tears, his emotions more close to the surface than he realised. "You came to me, Mr. Stark! Remember? You involved me. I never asked for it…"

Tony sighed. "I know that, kid, and that's why I let you keep the suit. It was a perk for helping us. I couldn't discuss all the ins and outs just then and I still can't. Everything is so convoluted and classified…"

Peter shook his head. "Bullshit!"

Tony shook his head. "Alright. Enough. I'm not going to try and convince you of anything. I'm just going to tell you how it is. I'm keeping the suit for a month. I'm going use that time to make it Ned-proof, and you, my fine Spiderling are grounded from going out as Spiderman until I give you back the suit. Understood?"

"What? No friggin way! You can't do that!"

Tony furrowed his brows, feeling angry this time. "Yes. I. can. Just try and cross me on this, Pete. You don't want me to tell your aunt and I won't. That won't change unless we agree otherwise however, that means I am your Spiderling guardian and what I say goes. I am not debating with you here. This is an order. If you can't abide by it, I will discipline you like the kid you are."

Peter took a few steps backward away from Tony. His face was red but he wasn't going to back down. Spiderman was part of who he was and no one was going to prevent him from doing what he felt was right. He had his convictions.

"Fine, keep the stupid suit but that won't stop me from going out as Spiderman. I have my own suit!"

"Those pyjamas? News Flash, kid. That's not a suit. That's playing dress up. It's a dangerous job and without the right equipment, you could get seriously hurt so no, you are not going out as Spiderman for an entire month. End of story."

Peter shook his head again. "You're not my father! I don't have to listen to you!"

Tony stepped forward, releasing the gauntlet on his wristwatch. He grabbed Peter firmly by the wrist and pulled him close. Peter, although angry, was not able to pull away. Tony's iron man gauntlet was powerful and there was no way Peter could escape it. Peter was strong but he was still a child.

"Yes, you do need to listen to me or there will be consequences. Care to test me on that, my web-slinging friend?"

Peter could feel Tony's breath on his face. Tony's brown eyes were dangerously darkened and Peter swallowed hard. A part of the teenager was debating just how strong he really was. Could Spiderman take on Ironman with only one wrist gauntlet? Tony Stark did not have enhanced abilities. He was just a normal man. Peter was strong. He didn't even need his suit to give him strength. Not only was he strong, but he was fast too.

"Let me go," dared Peter, his heart racing in his chest.

Tony blinked, almost bewildered by Peter's resolve in the moment. "You really need a show of authority to get through to you? Are you that thick-headed?" threatened Tony, forcing himself to stay calm under the challenge.

Peter struggled under Tony's tight grasp on his wrist. "I said let me go, damn it!"

Tony clenched his jaw and released Peter's wrist only to spin him sideways and land a superhuman swat on the kid's backside. Tony knew it was hard so he braced the kid's waist with his other hand so he wouldn't go flying across the room. Tony spun the boy around and stuck a finger in his face.

"Spiderman is grounded. No exceptions!"

Tony stared at Peter sternly, looking for the impact, if any, that he had made on the kid. Peter's eyes were wide and Tony could see the kid working hard to blink back tears. Perhaps, the gauntlet did have the power to make an impact on the kid. Tony's heart rate increased. Maybe it had too much power. Maybe he'd injured the boy or left a bruise. He'd walloped him with a good deal of force.

Peter licked his lips, fiercely blinking back tears. "Stop treating me like a stupid kid!" he shouted and ran towards the glass doors to escape up the stairs. He stopped when he reached them and yanked on the door. Tony watched feeling guilty.

"You can't get out without the code, Pete."

Peter stood at the doors, not looking at Tony. His hands were trembling and he felt trapped.

Tony walked towards him and tried to place a hand on his shoulders, but Peter pulled away.

"Did I hurt you, Peter?" Tony felt guilt pinch at his gut, second-guessing the gauntlet. He had no clue how much force it held behind it.

~~~Heroes~~~

Peter held his hands up to keep Tony at a distance. "Just leave me the hell alone, alright?" He was vacillating between anger at what happened and embarrassment at having overreacted. Tony had caught him off guard. The swat had stung a lot more than he thought possible, but it had also faded just as quick. He had his accelerated healing to thanks for that, but he was mortified that Tony had felt justified to smack him, let alone hard enough to make it hurt that much. He was also insulted that his mentor, the man he admired so much, had felt it necessary at all. He wasn't a little kid, and he hadn't said anything so disrespectful to have warranted that kind of reaction. Or, at least, he didn't think he did. Peter turned and faced Tony having been able to blink back the tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. His face was burning in humiliation.

"You alright, kid?" Tony looked apologetic and that made Peter feel even worse.

More tears blurred his vision and Peter turned to face the glass doors again. "I'd like to go to my room, Mr. Stark," he whispered.

"Peter, did I hurt you?" Tony placed a hand on his shoulder again.

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head in humiliation. He didn't want Tony to see him cry. "No."

Tony turned him around and looked intently into his face. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. The gauntlet was supposed to be an empty threat, but I've got to tell you, Pete, you're really pushing my buttons. I consider myself a pretty chill guy but your attitude is over the top."

Peter kept blinking losing the battle of the tears as several ran down his cheeks. He quickly brushed them away. Hearing Tony apologise made him feel guilty and he didn't like it.

"Let's finish discussing this and call it a day. I think both of us are tired."

Tony nodded in the direction of the sofa but Peter shook his head.

"There's nothing else to talk about. Can't I just leave?"

Tony shook his head and wandered over to the sofa, sitting down. "No, not until we come to an understanding."

Peter took a deep breath. His temper was flaring again. He needed to get some space or he was going to lose it. Why couldn't Tony get that? Peter leaned against the glass and cross his arms.

"Just talk," said Peter, his voice tight.

Tony sighed. "Okay. Have it your way. Do you understand what I said about Spiderman being grounded?"

Peter narrowed his eyes in annoyance but nodded. "Yes."

"No going out and playing superhero for a month. If you can abide by my rules then I'll return the suit and we'll discuss more guidelines then, okay."

"Fine, whatever." Peter stared at the ground refusing to look at the billionaire.

Tony lifted a brow. "Any questions for me?"

Peter shook his head. "No, can I go?"

Tony heaved a sigh and stood to his feet, walking over and standing in front of Peter. "Pete, are you really okay? I didn't injure you, did I? I only wanted to get your attention, not hurt you." The man's voice was filled with compassion.

Peter's eyes sparked. "What the hell did you think would happen if you hit me with your friggin iron glove? Did you think it would tickle?" He was angry but his voice sounded more hurt than mad.

"No, I figured it would sting. I wanted it to make an impression. You were way out of line, and I wanted it to stop."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yah, whatever. You win. Can I go now?"

Tony stared at him for several long moments before walking to the glass doors and inputting the code. He opened the door and pointed up the stairs.

"You're free to go as long as we understand one another."

Peter stood still looking at his escape but he didn't move. His heart pounded in his chest. This wasn't how he wanted to leave things. He only wanted to make his mentor proud. He didn't want to be angry, and he didn't want the billionaire angry with him either. Damn it, how did they end up here? Why couldn't he just be really interning for the man?

"So, this is it, then?" began Peter as he went out the door and stood on the bottom of the step.

Tony furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?" He leaned against the doors, keeping them ajar.

"Tomorrow I go home and we go back to you ignoring me. Is that how it's going to be?"

"I'll be in touch in a month, Pete. I promise we will discuss things more then, okay?"

Peter nodded, disappointment flooding his face as he mounted the steps. He heard Tony shut the glass doors behind him and the closure felt permanent. Peter allowed the tears to cascade down his cheeks now as he made his way back upstairs, and to his room. He closed the door behind him and locked it. He never felt more alone than he did right now. His heart ached, both from feeling empty and from being brushed aside. He knew that his internship was over and that he'd probably never hear from Tony Stark again. He'd blown it. The suit was gone forever, and he was alone again just like before.

Peter wiped the tears away and walked over to the mirror. He stared at his red, tear-streaked face. Suddenly he hated his reflection. He put his fist out and the mirror shattered under his hand.

"Damn it!" he cursed. The shards of the mirror scattered at his feet and some caught in his hand. He grimaced as he looked at his hand. Blood pooled around the shards. Somehow the pain was cathartic. He didn't often feel pain like he did before he was bitten by the spider. A part of him welcomed it this time. Feeling physical pain was better than emotional pain any day. He walked to his ensuite bathroom and ran his hand under the running water, picking out the shards. He stood watching the blood run down the sink. His hand slowly stopped stinging and he could see it beginning to heal. His healing abilities even impressed him.

He looked in the mirror and his thoughts went to how he'd felt when Tony had smacked him. The immediate sting was a shock. He'd been knocked around a time or two as Spiderman and often it stung a little but Tony's wallop had hurt. That sting, compounded with the look on the man's face, had more than taken him aback. It had reminded him of a time when he was much younger and his Uncle Ben had taken him to task over his disrespectful attitude. Those memories weren't pleasant but his heart ached for uncle. He missed the man so much that it sucked the oxygen from his lungs. Ben had been like a father to him and every fibre of his being ached from missing the man. Somehow, without even knowing it, Peter had allowed himself to believe the Tony Stark cared for him and maybe, just maybe…no, that kind of thinking had only led him to where he was now. Wounded and alone.

A loud knock at the door pulled him from his revelry. Before Peter could answer, the door flung open and Tony came into the room, a look of concern in his face. Peter was confused as to how the man had gained entry when he had locked the door behind him.

"FRIDAY said you injured your hand. Are you okay, Kid?" Tony took in the broken mirror in the room and the hole in the wall from earlier and crossed his arms.

"How…"

"FRIDAY let me in, kid. Let me see your hand."

Peter came out of the bathroom looking sheepish. "Uh, I kinda had a little accident."

Tony stepped forward and reached for Peter's hand, inspecting the damage. He looked up at the boy and shook his head.

"Was it worth it?"

Peter pulled his hand away. "It was an accident."

"So you said." Tony crossed the room and inspected the hole that Peter had kicked in the wall earlier. "I suppose this was an accident too?"

Peter swallowed and nodded. "I…uh…keep forgetting how strong I am. I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I will pay for it to be repaired."

"With what, Pete? You don't even have a job, for Pete's sake. Are you going to ask your aunt to pay for it?" Tony waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind, it's not about the money. I can afford to repair it. I'm more concerned about why. What made you mad enough to put your hand through a mirror and your foot through the wall?"

Peter walked nervously over to the desk in the room. He stared out the window at the skyline. From the corner of his eye, he could see Tony taking in the room. Peter felt sure he would notice that he hadn't touched anything in the room, not the video games, the computer or the Lego. All of it stood untouched but if the billionaire philanthropist was bothered, he didn't show it.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask for an apology, kid. I want an explanation."

Maybe it was something in the man's voice or maybe it was because Peter was so tired, but whatever it was, it was this moment when Peter's resolve broke. His whole body began to shake and tears fell down his cheeks in currents.

"I-I never asked you to find me. You were the one w-who lied to m-my aunt about the stupid internship," sobbed Peter, working really hard to regain his equilibrium.

"Peter," began Tony, sobering at how hard the kid was struggling to speak to him.

"NO!" shouted Peter, his face red from his emotional outburst. "You came to me, Stark. Not the other way around! I-I never asked for your help. You asked for mine! I d-did you a favour by going to Germany." Peter choked back another sob and Tony tried to reach out to comfort him but Peter pulled away. "Don't. Just don't." Peter clenched his fists tightly. He didn't want to be this needy and pathetic. He didn't want to need Tony, but he did. He did need him.

Tony stood quietly taking in Peter's emotional vulnerability. The helplessness was written all over the young teen in front of him. Peter wasn't mad about the suit. It wasn't anything to do with the suit at all. Tony could finally see the truth. When Tony had first discovered the footage of Spiderman on Youtube, he'd taken some time to find out who Peter Parker was. He'd discovered lots about the kid including the recent murder of his uncle, how hard the kid's aunt worked to keep him in private school and the death of his parents when he was knee-high to a grasshopper. Peter had lived a hard life.

Peter suddenly turned. "I'm going home. You have your suit. I get it; I'm grounded from being Spiderman and you'll call me in a month. It's all good." He started towards the door but Tony caught him by his forearm.

"You're not going anywhere, kiddo," began Tony softly.

Peter shook off Tony's hand. "Yes, I am. Damn it; just let me go!" Tears kept running down his cheeks in torrents.

Tony shook his head and in one fluid movement, drew Peter into himself and tightly embraced him. Tony felt the kid's body stiffen in response but Tony held him firmly and stroked the back of his head.

"It's okay, Peter. You're not alone anymore," he whispered in his ear.

Peter's body was tense for several more minutes and then he melted into the embrace, sobbing. Tony held him close, feeling the kid's pulse race and hearing the anguish in the cries. As much as Tony was a tough guy, he was also compassionate and his heart went out to the teenager.

"I'm sorry…I-I just wanted to be like you…I-I just…"

Tony hushed him gently. "I know, kid. I understand."

**Wakanda**

Steve grimaced as his head spun him in circles. He looked up at Clint and Wanda, blinking a few times to clear his vision, and shuddered. Clint looked furious and Steve walked towards him hoping to defuse the situation. Wanda's face was bewildered as she stood pinned between Clint's strong legs.

"Clint, I'm okay," he assured his friend.

Clint ignored Steve and sternly shook Wanda. "Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to do the whole mind control thing on me? In case you don't remember, I'm not a fan!"

Wanda's eyes enlarged in both recollection and fear. She remembered quite well. Clint had shot her with an arrow that time too. Only that time the arrow had given her a shock like none other. It had taken her a long time to gain her equilibrium after it.

"Clint, it's okay; I'm okay." He tried to calm his friend as he stepped closer and looked into Wanda's eyes. "What were you trying to show me with that vision, Wanda?"

Wanda blinked back tears but remained silent. As much as Clint was angry, Steve was more interested in the girl's thought process. He didn't feel like it was a malicious attack but rather that she was trying to show him something he'd missed before.

Just then a knock was heard at the door.

"Not now," barked Clint, still wanting to deal with Wanda's abuse of her powers.

Steve shot Clint a look to behave as he opened the door to see Shuri standing there.

"Hello," she said, her face lighting up with a bright smile when she saw him. She held out something in a jar and handed it to Steve. "My mother asked me to bring this for Wanda. It is ancient healing balm known for its accelerated healing properties. It helps with pain, healing and scarring." Shuri looked over at Wanda and her face grew concerned. "Is everything okay? Did I interrupt something?"

Steve accepted the ointment kindly. "No, no, everything is fine, Shuri. Please thank your mother for us."

Shuri nodded looking uncertain. "Wanda, I was wondering if you might like to come to my home this afternoon. Classes are finished for today, and it can get kind of boring on my own."

Steve smiled at her knowing that Shuri was being thoughtful. Shuri was not a typical teen girl with tons of time to flutter away. Steve knew that she was a brilliant young lady with a full lab at her disposal. Shuri did not get bored. "That's very kind of you, Shuri. I'm sure Wanda would enjoy that. Unfortunately, at the moment, Clint and I need to talk with her."

"I can speak for myself," groused Wanda from behind him.

Clint closed his knees on her just a little tighter and Wanda scowled at him, openly struggling to get away.

"Let me go!" She snapped at him.

Steve began to feel the energy in the room build up again. "Please tell your mother that we are very thankful for the balm. I'm sure Wanda would love to take you up on the offer another day." Steve tried to gently encourage Shuri to leave them. Shuri seemed unsettled, not catching the cue that Steve wished her to leave.

"Wanda, you'd best dial it down or you're not gonna like the consequences." Clint's soft voice left no room for misunderstanding. Steve silently winced at the threat. He definitely needed to have a talk with Clint as well.

Steve smiled at Shuri once again. "If you would excuse us, Shuri." His voice sounded very tactful and gentile. He was used to being diplomatic in the worst of situations, but he definitely needed the young teen girl to leave.

Shuri blinked a few times, "Oh, yes, of course." She turned to leave the room, stopping for a few seconds to stare back at Wanda before disappearing out the door.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door and locked it.

Clint stood to his feet as soon as the door closed and pulled Wanda with him. He forcefully propelled her towards the bed with a sharp, stinging swat to her backside, being mindful of her injuries but meaning business nonetheless. Wanda yelped and spun on her heel with indignation written all over her face. Her uninjured arm flew to her backside and her eyes were wide in astonishment mixed with outrage.

Steve shook his head in discouragement, having tried his best to defuse the situation and clearly realising he had failed.

Clint stuck a finger in Wanda's face, his paternal instincts in full-blown mode. "I've reached the end of my patience with you, Wanda. Consider that your one and final warning from me. I will not put up with belligerence and rebellion from any kid…mine or anyone else's…"

"Clint," began Steve, in an attempt to be a mediator.

"No, don't even try to sugar coat this, Steve," warned Clint, turning his annoyance towards his friend. "Frankly, I'm surprised you put up with what you do from this kid, considering you grew up in a time where no one put up with shit from kids. What gives, man? Did being on ice somehow make you a wimp?"

Steve raised a brow in amusement. He couldn't be angry with Clint in this moment. He was finding Clint's patriarchal outburst to be endearing because he knew it was coming from the spirit of love that Clint had for Wanda. Clint was as attached as he was to the lost girl.

Clint turned back to Wanda, his face still firm. Wanda stood shell-shocked, still rubbing her stinging behind. "I can't even pretend to know what's going on in that head of yours, nor can I pretend to know what it was like for you to be manipulated by HYDRA. I'm sorry about all that. It must have sucked royally, but it's over and in the past now. I'm sure it haunts you but you know what, kid? You're not alone anymore. You have me and you have Steve. We're here to help you if you want it. If you don't want our help then that's fine too, but hear me well. I will not put up with your drama, not now and not ever. You understand me?"

Wanda blinked but remained quiet. Tears silently tumbled down her cheeks as she stared intently at Clint, her eyes wide and unreadable.

"We want to help, Wanda," echoed Steve, his voice much softer and less intense than Clint's.

Clint raked a hand through his hair. "What happened in Nigeria wasn't your fault. I get how you feel like it was but it's not. It just happened, and we have to deal with that now. It sucks big time but if you hadn't had reacted how you did, Cap would be dead and that would have been pretty crappy for all of us." Clint took a step closer to Wanda and for once she didn't step away. Her bottom lip trembled but she remained still and observant. Clint reached for her hand still behind her back. Her other hand rested securely in the sling at her waist. "We care about you, kiddo, probably more than we have a right to. We don't want to see you hurting and in pain. You need to let us into that pretty little head of yours so we can help you deal with the crap eating away at you. You can't deal with on your own."

Steve moved closer and placed a soothing hand on Wanda's shoulder. "Clint's right, sweetheart, we worked so hard together to help you overcome your feelings of guilt and despair. I promised you that I would protect you and be with you; I meant that, Wanda."

Wanda's face contorted into a cry of anguish as her knees went out from beneath her. Clint was quick enough to grab her to keep her from falling. He helped her onto the bed.

"P-people died and it was m-my fault," she sobbed. Clint wrapped an arm around the girl and hushed her gently, his entire stern façade melting into a puddle around him. Steve sat close by stroking her hair.

"See, that is where you're wrong, honey," said Clint, his heart beating quickly, grateful for the breakdown and the glimpse into the teen's heart. "Yes, people died, Wanda and it was awful." Clint's voice broke up as emotion took over. He cleared his throat several times before continuing. "Like when Pietro made a snap decision to save me and that child. It wasn't fair in any way but he made that choice just like you did." Clint cupped the girls face in his hand, looking intently in her green teary eyes. "You made a choice too, sweetie, and it was every bit the right one. What happened as a result was not your fault. You couldn't have known the outcome; you couldn't have anticipated any of it..."

Wanda pulled her face away from Clint and shook her head fiercely. "Y-you've lost your friends and your lives b-because of me," she sobbed.

Steve frowned. "Because of you? Wanda, do you mean?"

Wanda hiccupped and leaned into Steve, exhausted from her emotions. She looked at her hand, playing with the red energy, snaking it around her fingers absentmindedly.

Clint placed his hand on hers firmly, receiving a jolt for his troubles.

"When we talked…about the Accords…" Wanda stumbled over her words as she tried to calm herself down and speak coherently. "I said they would come for me…once they knew…"

Clint frowned and looked at Steve inquisitively.

"It's a long story, but it was when Tony told us about the young man who was killed in Sokovia when the buildings fell. Tony was mourning those losses pretty badly. The thing is, it's not just the loss of life that bothers him; Tony carries all of it on his shoulders, much like you are trying to do, Wanda, and it colours your choices. We can't make decisions from your guilt," explained Steve gently.

Wanda trembled.

"This is a war we are fighting, Wanda," said Clint. "It's a war against supreme powers and beings that we know nothing about. Those Accords are wrong for so many reasons, and revealing our identities is such a small part of it. There is no way in hell I would sign anything that put my family in jeopardy but I'm okay with retiring and staying out of things if I thought the Accords were the right thing to do, but they're not. The Accords make the Avengers puppets. And ultimately, it will make us criminals."

Steve nodded his head. "Much like we are now."

"I thought you were fighting because you wanted to protect me and others like me," said Wanda, beginning to calm down and really listen. "I-I thought it was m-my fault."

Clint smiled. "Girl, you seriously need to talk about things because you couldn't be more wrong."

Steve stood up. "Wanda, I don't even know where to start when it comes to the Accords. I know you only heard a little about them and I have to admit, I came very close to signing them until I realised what that meant."

Wanda looked up at him, wide eyed and for once listening and not assuming.

"By signing the Accords, we would have been signing away our right to choose. We would have been deferring that decision to the UN who could potentially take weeks to make a decision about anything. Imagine what it would be like if we had to wait for a governing body to give us the go ahead when some superpower is already doing their best to obliterate us? It would be mayhem. I couldn't sit by and allow it to happen. So what does that make me? A guaranteed criminal."

Clint stood up as well, looking agitated once again. "Tony was wrong to go about things the way he did. He screwed up because he let his emotions control him which is no surprise because the guy tends to make decisions without thinking things through. My wife assures me that Stark is doing his best to negotiate things in our favour so we can go home but it was a dick move on Stark's part in the first place. If anyone is at fault, it's Stark."

Steve's face darkened considerably as he became lost in his own thoughts. "Let's not place blame, Clint, okay? It doesn't help matters."

Clint sighed and nodded.

Steve rubbed Wanda's back as he spoke. "The point is, the Accords are complicated, and they should have been negotiated from the beginning and not just dumped on us out of the blue. It was wrong, and whatever happened, as a result, is something I have to live with. I am the leader, and I accept full responsibility for the outcome. You, Wanda, are still a young girl…" Wanda looked ready to protest but Steve raised a finger to prevent her from interrupting him. "You're a minor is all I meant. A lot of things happened that you didn't even know about and I don't wish to talk about..."

"Prison was no picnic either, Captain," stated Clint simply.

Steve shook his head, looking remorseful. "I know that, and I feel like that's on me too."

Clint heaved a sigh and went to sit down by Wanda again. "Anyway, Wanda, we've been granted asylum here in Wakanda which means we need to obey the laws here. You can't be losing control of yourself and having these huge meltdowns. What if some school children had happened to come across you? "

"I-I never meant any harm. I purposely went off the beaten path…I just needed some place to release…"

Steve put his hands on his hips, his voice becoming stern. "Wanda, you were completely out of control when I came along. You attacked me!"

"I wouldn't have hurt you," Wanda said in her defence, tears shimmering in her eyes.

"How do you know that? I'm not even sure you had any control at all. How much control did Hydra give you over those powers? Do you even know? How much is out of your control when you're angry? When we were training at the compound, I never once saw you lose control like that but since these nightmares…"

"I have no control over my dreams!" Wanda shouted back.

Clint groaned and placed a hand on Wanda's knee kindly. "No one said you did, kiddo. Steve's trying to tell you…"

Wanda sprang to her feet and spun to face the two men. "I don't care. Get out! Leave me alone!" Tears fell down her cheeks once again.

Clint stood to his feet and pointed a finger in Wanda's face. "Look, if you don't get control of yourself, T'Challa is going to do it for you! Wakanda has the technology to strip you of your powers. If that's what you want then keep up this bullshit."

Wanda's face paled.

Steve's shoulder's dropped as he cast a glare in Clint's direction.

Clint lifted his hands up in frustration. "Don't give me that look, Steve. Pussyfooting around the obvious doesn't help anyone. She learns to control her powers or she loses them. It's that simple!"

Wanda glared at them for a few moments before raising her hand in the air and using her powers to fling both men out the door, slamming it in their faces.


	7. Chapter 7

**New York**

Peter leaned his forehead against Tony Stark's chest, trying to compose himself. He ached inside and he felt humiliated knowing that he'd completely broken down in front of the man he admired so much. In all the time Peter had known Tony, the man had always exuded self-control. How could Peter ever garner the man's respect if he acted like complete moron around him all the time? Peter forced himself to pull away and he quickly wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his sleeve. He couldn't make himself look the billionaire in the eye but he could feel the man staring at him.

"You ok, Peter?"

Peter nodded but didn't look up; instead he stared at the hardwood floor of his room.

Tony let out a loud sigh and leaned against the nearby desk. "I'm so sorry, Peter. I had no idea how much you were struggling."

Peter looked up and sniffled. He made eye contact with Tony and had to blink back a fresh onslaught of tears. The tone of the man's voice made him feel like fleeing and never coming back. He didn't want the man's pity. He wasn't some pathetic hard luck story. He believed in making his own luck, come what may.

"I don't want your pity."

"Always the tough guy." Tony muttered more to himself than to Peter, running a weary hand through his hair, exasperation written all over his face.

Peter lifted his chin and wiped away the remaining tears. This time he forced himself to maintain eye contact, his whole body exuding pride. He never asked Tony Stark to come into his life. He would fine once the man left it.

"I can call my aunt to come get me, Mr. Stark. I am sorry about, well, about everything. I know I can't pay for the damages…"

Tony shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Would you just stop that already! Cut the bullshit, Pete. It's time to be real."

Peter's eyes widened. A few more tears escaped but he quickly swiped them away. He wasn't used to being called out on things. His aunt rarely saw through his well-polished façade. He worked hard to keep it that way. Ever since his uncle was killed, he had put on a good show of having it together. He needed his aunt to know he was fine so she could be fine too. Besides, there had been a darker side of May rise up after Ben died, and he didn't like to mess with that. May seemed to become unglued when things didn't run smoothly resulting in more than a few bruises to his face. Accelerated healing or not, he didn't mess with pissing his aunt off. He kept things on the up and up and had become damned good at lying and not getting caught.

"Look, I know about your Uncle." Peter's mouth dropped open but before he could say anything, Tony held up his hand to stop him. "Just listen to me for a minute, okay? I don't want to argue with you anymore. I'm tired and I know you are too. Knock off the teenage angst for a moment."

Peter nodded and relaxed his tense shoulders a little. He was tired. In fact, he suddenly realised he was exhausted.

"I probably owe you more of an apology than I know, Pete, but for now, please just accept a truce. Once I figure things out, we can talk some more. I know Spiderman is part of who you are and taking the suit away isn't going to deter you from being who you are. I'm asking you to just take a break for a while, not as punishment but as a favour to me…"

"Mr. Stark," began Peter, his brain not comprehending much of anything.

"Pete, sit down before you fall down." Tony pointed to the bed across from the desk. Peter obliged, suddenly grateful to sit down. His eyelids were heavy. Tony reached out and brushed his hair from his eyes. For once, Peter didn't pull away; he actually relished the touch, so caring and so familiar.

"You smell like metal," mumbled Peter as he sat down, leaning his head against the wall.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You smell like a mixture of metal and oil, kinda like a machine shop."

Tony chuckled and sat down beside Peter. He patted the kid's leg gently. "I think you're delirious, kid."

Peter's eyes fluttered as he fought hard to keep them from closing. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark."

"It's okay, Pete. Close your eyes and get some sleep." Peter shook his head in protest but his eyelids closed again. "Go ahead, kiddo, get some rest," encouraged Tony, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

IM-SM-SP-IM-SP-IM-SM-IM-SP-IM-SP

Tony watched as Peter's eyes fluttered a few more times and then stayed closed. He heaved a weary sigh as he sized up the teenager collapsed on the bed. Peter Parker was a force to be reckoned with. That was for sure and for certain. Tony had seen a side of the boy that he never thought he'd deal with. There was no way that his aunt was going to be able to handle the kid as a superhero. The woman could try to keep the kid under control but Tony knew that it would be impossible. Heck, even Tony would be hard-pressed to keep Peter reigned in.

Tony pulled himself back on the bed until his back was resting against the wall and he guided Peter's head gently to his lap. Tony ran a gentle hand through the boy's still damp brown hair. Lashing out at the kid in anger had certainly set off a chain of events Tony hadn't anticipated. Peter had managed to push some kind of internal parental button Tony didn't even know he'd had. The gauntlet was meant as an empty threat, one he never intended to follow through on. Yet when Peter's rebellious insolence came out of nowhere, Tony acted on impulse. Howard Stark would have been proud. One thing Tony's father never put up with was disrespect. Tony had felt his father's disapproval on several occasions when he dared to disrespect his father.

Peter stirred, turning to his side but didn't wake up. Tony heaved a sigh of relief, grateful for the reprieve. He needed time to think. He wanted to honour Peter's request to keep his aunt in the dark about the Spiderman stuff, but his gut was screaming at him and his stupidity to agree to such a thing. Peter was still a child. Fifteen years old, for Pete's sake. What was he thinking? May Parker should know everything about Peter. Being a teenager superhero was daunting; it was emotionally draining, and it impacted Peter more than the kid even realised. If someone died or was seriously injured, that would affect Peter. It wasn't a game, no matter how Peter viewed it as such sometimes.

Tony stroked the young teen's hair and looked at his features, peaceful in sleep. "Oh, kid, what am I going to do with you?" The words came out as a whisper. "I suck at taking care of my own self; hell, if it wasn't for Pepper running my business and taking care of me, I'd be a pauper."

Tony thoughts flashed to his father, Howard Stark. The man had been an enigma to him as a child, teen and young adult. Tony certainly had never learned what a good father was at all from the man. How on earth could Tony even attempt to be any type of father figure to a kid? Tony laughed at his own pondering. His thoughts were ludicrous. Tony Stark a father? HA! That'd be the day.

It hit Tony at that moment what a selfish son of a bitch he really was. The kid was right. Peter never asked Tony to interfere in his life. He'd all but bullied the kid into going to Germany. Tony had been the one to construct the huge lie about the internship to deceive May. None of it had been Peter's idea.

Tony had been the one to force the issue and basically used him for what he'd wanted and tossed him to the side without so much as a second thought.

"God, kid, I'm a real bastard. I'm so sorry."

Peter's hair was still damp with perspiration from their earlier dealings. Tony's heart went out to the kid now. He just hadn't stopped to think. Peter was struggling too, dealing with things he shouldn't have to deal with at his age. The boy's plate was full yet, for some reason, he felt some kind of strong obligation to help others. Tony understood the draw. He had the same compulsion. But things were different. Tony was an adult. He had the means to act on his impulses; Peter didn't have that and he shouldn't need to.

"Damn it, Pete," he muttered, gripping the boy's dark hair in his fist a little more roughly than he meant to. "Why can't you just leave well enough alone and enjoy being a kid. There is plenty of time to do adult stuff when you're an old codger like me."

Peter groaned in his sleep causing Tony to release his grip and brush the boy's hair down gently once more.

"You need to learn to listen, kid. Just respect and listen to me. Let go of this stuff and let the adults handle it. It's not your job yet."

Tony found himself sighing and wanting to shake the teenager to put some sense into him. His thoughts continued to run in different directions for a while before he finally rested his own head against the back of the wall and shut his eyes. There was no use beating himself up over things he couldn't change. Tony left his hand resting on Peter's soft hair and drifted into a fitful sleep.

~~~Heroes~~~

Morning light poured into the room as Peter reached up and wiped the back of his mouth with his hand and opened his eyes. He felt a heavy hand on his head and was startled when he realised the hand belonged to Tony Stark. He attempted to move only to realise he was for the most part lying on top of the man. His face flushed crimson as he scurried to gain some semblance of his pride back but also not wake the man. How long had they been asleep together like this? It was humiliating to Peter to think his mentor had seen him so broken down and out of sorts. Gawd, he'd screwed up beyond repair. He might as well just give up on ever being Spiderman ever again. Tony Stark was never going to see him as anything but some dumb idiotic kid if he didn't stop screwing up so royally.

Peter swallowed a lump in his throat when he felt Tony stir as well. There was no way Peter could get up and escape without the man noticing now. Peter sat up and crawled off the bed quickly and headed towards the washroom.

"You okay, Webster?"

Peter turned and nodded. "Yah. Sorry, uh, I'm just gonna use the washroom."

Tony stretched and nodded.

Peter disappeared into the washroom and relieved himself. He stood in front of the mirror and stared at his pale face. Glancing briefly at his watch, he couldn't believe how much time had passed. In the distance, he could hear Tony talking to Friday. He couldn't make out what was being said so he stopped trying to figure it out. Staring at his reflection, he cupped several handfuls of water from the tap and tossed it into his face, grateful for the way it refreshed him and helped him clear his thoughts. How was he going to get past Tony so he could go home? He didn't want to discuss things anymore. He was tired of talking.

Peter jumped when a knock was heard on the door.

"Hate to drag ya out if you're busy, kid, but I wouldn't mind a minute if you're finished."

Peter bit his lip and sighed, opening the door and walked out sheepishly keeping his eyes from making contact with Tony's.

Tony stopped before entering the small room. "Don't go anywhere, Pete."

Peter nodded silently and walked towards the window, hearing the door close behind him.

A few minutes later, Tony entered the room with his face damp. He smiled at Peter, "No towels?"

"Uh, yah, I used them to clean up a spill…"

Tony held up his hand. "It's okay. My handsome good looks will survive. It's all good."

Peter chewed on his bottom lip.

"How'd you sleep?"

Peter shrugged. Truth be known, he didn't remember falling asleep and it had been a restless sleep at best. He felt as heavy laden as he had when he'd fallen asleep and nothing was solved.

"Yah, me too," said Tony quietly, obviously acknowledging the restless sleep they both had received.

There was a long pregnant pause. Peter fidgeted as Tony continued to stare at him. It was making him feel very uncomfortable to be scrutinized so closely. What exactly was the man thinking about? Was it how much of a nuisance he was? How he regretted ever getting involved with some messed up superhero wannabe?

"You hungry?"

Peter shrugged again, turning away and staring out the window absently. The sun was up and he could vaguely see ant sized people milling around below them. It was Saturday but life never seemed to be at a standstill In Manhattan. Life kept going at a fast pace regardless of the time of day.

"Not really," he finally said.

"Liar," stated Tony flatly.

Peter rolled his eyes. A part of him was feeling just as combative as the night before, only now he was more rested and ready to battle with less emotion. All he wanted to do was go home and forget he'd ever met Tony Stark. He was ready to fight for that freedom this morning.

Peter puffed out his cheeks. "Look, just say what you want to say, Mr. Stark…"

"Tony."

Peter spun around to face Tony, taken aback. "What?"

Tony scrubbed a hand across his face as he straddled the desk chair. "Call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father."

Peter blinked at a loss for words. Of all things his mentor could have said, Peter did not expect that. Calling an adult by his first name wasn't something usually offered to him. Most adults just wanted the respect and the authority, keeping him and any other teenager at a respectable distance.

"Would you sit and talk to me, Pete?"

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like the carpet was being pulled out from under him. Tony Stark's whole demeanor had seemed to change from the night before. Instead of commanding, he was requesting. Peter ran both hands through his hair before opening his eyes and looking at Tony suspiciously.

"Don't look at me like that, kid." Tony reached out for the other chair and shoved it towards him. "Just sit down. Please."

Peter sighed and straddled it in the same fashion as Tony.

"I meant what I said last night, Peter."

Peter felt his back go up. Tony had said a lot of things last night. Before he could say anything, Tony raised his hand to forestall him.

"Before you go all teenage angst on me, I mean about not being alone. You aren't alone anymore. Peter, I don't know what cosmic event threw us together, but I have to say I'm not concerned by it. I'm glad I met you. I'm more than glad. I'm freaking honoured. You're an incredible kid!"

Peter licked his lips as tears threatened to make an appearance once again. Peter blinked hard and fast, his anger and combativeness melting away at the same time.

"You said a lot of things last night that made me think." At this point, Peter saw Tony grimace and look down at the floor. The man stared for a few moments before looking him straight in the eye. "You're right, Pete. I did seek you out and all but coerced you to go to Germany. You got a raw deal, and I'm sorry."

Peter sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn't have been more shocked than he was in that moment. He remained quiet and still, not knowing what to say.

"I'm so sorry about your uncle and how hard you and your aunt struggle to stay afloat. Your aunt is a remarkable woman. I hope you realise that."

Peter nodded. He couldn't have agreed more. His aunt was an extraordinary woman. He loved her with his whole heart. She took him in as a little scrawny, annoying kid and loved him like her own, his uncle as well. He owned them everything.

"I do."

"Good because if I ever hear about you giving her grief, you'll have me to deal with. Got it?"

Peter's eyes widened but he nodded quickly, not knowing how else to respond to the underlying threat.

Tony's expression softened. "The point is, kid, whatever brought us together put aside, I'm here for you now. You're stuck with me. I respect you don't want your aunt to know about this superhero business, and I won't tell her unless we discuss it first. I give you my word."

"Thanks."

Tony nodded and then stood up, looking down at him. "But this comes with consequence, Peter. You've got to understand that. This leaves me in an awkward position. You get that, don't you?"

Peter sighed loudly. It didn't matter if he didn't agree. Tony Stark felt responsible and there wasn't anything he could do about that so instead of protesting, he merely nodded.

Tony paced a little, scratching his head and cracking his knuckles loudly. He turned and walked over to Peter and placed his hands on both his shoulders, looking down at him.

"I meant what I said about the suit and the consequences as well, Pete. As much as it sucks, you're stuck with me and my obstinate ways."

Peter shrugged off his hands. "I already said I agreed to your rules last night. What else do you want from me?" His voice was much louder and terse than he meant it to be but he didn't attempt to correct it. He was on edge, and he was angry Tony had hit him last night. He couldn't change how he felt.

Tony frowned and put his hands on his hips. "A little respect would be nice."

Peter's face reddened. "Fine."

Tony sighed. "Alright. I guess we've talked enough. Want me to take you back to May's?"

This time Peter's jaw dropped in utter surprise. Tony had never offered to take him anywhere. Usually Happy did that. All he could do was nod in reply.

Tony offered him a weary smile. "Okay. Take whatever you want. It all belongs to you anyway. Meet me downstairs in an hour. Need anything, just ask Friday." With those final words, Tony disappeared from the room leaving Peter alone.

Peter sat staring at the empty doorway. Now what? What did this new relationship mean? Peter had no idea what to expect from here on in. Deep down, he knew that everything had changed.

Wakanda

Steve reached out a hand to help Clint to his feet.

"Owww," the archer complained massaging his arm and shoulder from where he'd landed. "Damn if that didn't take me off guard."

Steve chuckled, relieved that Clint's reaction was humour and not anger as he'd expected.

"You alright?"

Clint stretched out the kinks and groaned as he straightened out his back and rubbed his arm. Nothing was broken but he was definitely going to be feeling it for a few days. He wasn't getting any younger.

"We shoulda figured something like that would happen sooner or later." Clint went to the door but Steve stopped him.

"Wait, we need to give her some space, Clint."

Clint stopped and frowned. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No."

"Hell, no. No way, man. I'm going in there, and I'm going to kick her teenage butt. There is no way in hell that I'm going to let her away with tossing us out of the room like friggen rag dolls."

Steve put a hand on Clint's forearm to stop him. "C'mon, Clint; hear me out on this."

Clint yanked his arm away. "No, Steve, I'm serious here. I don't get why you're not just as pissed as me. What's with you? Why the kid gloves with this girl?"

Steve put his hands in his pockets. "I am angry with her, but Clint, you won't win against her right now. She's virtually impossible to defeat and if she feels threatened…" Steve let his voice tail off. He knew he didn't have to explain himself. Clint had witnessed what Wanda was capable of too.

Clint put his hands on his hips irritably, inhaling deeply to calm himself down. "So, what now then?"

Steve's blue eyes looked distant as he pondered just that. He didn't have any answers. He just knew that Wanda was not someone they could strong arm. She had to submit to them or there was no point. To do anything else was stupid and dangerous.

"I think there is no other choice, gentlemen."

Steve and Clint both looked startled when they saw T'Challa standing there. The man was not the Black Panther for nothing. Neither man had heard the King of Wakanda walk up behind them.

Steve sighed. "I don't like it, T'Challa." Steve knew exactly what the young King had in mind.

The tall black man nodded his understanding. "I know. It's not ideal but it is the best solution given the circumstances. She's a child, and she needs to learn self-control and discipline. Containing her powers will not take them forever, it will just allow you the control you need to discipline and train her. Once she leaves Wakanda, they will be returned to normal."

"I'm going to put a bell on you," grumbled Clint, still trying to get over his shock of the man coming out of nowhere.

T'Challa laughed as he glanced down at his feet. "Shuri made me these shoes."

Clint glowered at the man's delight over his new footwear.

Steve ran a hand through his blonde hair. "How do you plan to control her powers?"

"It may have already been done."

Steve furrowed a brow. "How so?"

"The liniment Shuri brought?" guessed Clint, his face taking on an impressed expression.

T'Challa nodded. "My mother still reigns as Queen of Wakanda. After speaking with Wanda this afternoon, she felt it was the best decision we could make for the girl. She believes that Wanda is very troubled and haunted; guilt plagues her as much as her anger does. I believe you gentlemen have your work cut out for you with the girl; however, with her powers under control, you will be better able to focus on empowering her to overcome her issues."

Steve puffed out his cheeks and nodded. "Thank you, T'Challa. We are eternally grateful for all you have done for us."

T'Challa bowed before them humbly. "Please say you will join my family for dinner tonight as our guests."

Clint stepped forward offering his hand in a handshake. "That's really nice of you, but I think we're gonna need to take a rain check tonight."

"Rain check?" asked T'Challa, unsure of the colloquialism.

"It means that we hope you will offer to host dinner another time when we are able to accept," offered Steve, extending his hand in friendship as well.

T'Challa nodded. "Of course, my friends. The doctor said Wanda may return to your residence. I will bid you good evening now and wish you the best of luck with Wanda."

With those final words, T'Challa disappeared down the hallway.

Clint turned to look at Steve. "I'm buying that dude a bell."

Steve chuckled and shook his head, then looked towards the door to where Wanda was staying. He put his hands behind his back and began to pace quietly. Clint stared at him for a moment and then went a sat on the closest chair.

"So, you're gonna pace rather than deal with her?"

Steve kept pacing. "I need to think."

"Fine by me, technically she's your kid anyway, but I'm telling you that when we go in that room, I'm gonna bust her tail."

Steve shook his head. "I rather you didn't do that, Clint. She's a young woman, not a small child."

"You sound like my wife," grumbled Clint, crossing his arms in annoyance. "I don't particularly care how old she is at the moment. If my kid purposely tossed me out of a room, I'd kick her ass."

Steve stopped pacing and scrutinized Clint for a moment. "Do you really mean that?"

Clint frowned. "I said it, didn't I?"

"You did, but since I'm not a father and you are, do you really mean you would physically chastise your child given the same circumstances. Think about it, Clint. Think about what Wanda has been through. Her parents were killed when she was 10 years old; she was manipulated and experimented upon, locked up and abused for years until the girl didn't even know what normal is anymore. How do we expect her to react? Not to mention, her twin brother –her only living family-being killed so horrifically. Imagine the connection those two had as twins, especially with Wanda's telekinesis."

Clint's face paled as he pondered Steve's words. He scratched his scruffy face thoughtfully and then heaved a weary sigh. "Ok, ok, you're right. Laura's right. I suck."

Steve smiled. "No, you're just being a dad, I think. A no-nonsense kind of dad like mine was. My father wouldn't have put up with much either."

Clint didn't think so either, given what he knew about that generation. "So, what's the plan Captain?"

Steve's face looked pained. "Please, Clint, don't call me that."

Clint became more serious. "I'm sorry, Steve, I meant nothing by it but respect."

"I know. I'm just not sure if I can even identify with that persona anymore. Captain America—who I thought he was and what he stood for—doesn't exist any longer, and that means I'm not sure who I am anymore."

Clint put a hand on his friends shoulder. "I do. You're a good man, Steve. You have a good heart. I don't know what went down between you and Stark, but I know signing the Accords is not a cut and dry decision, especially not from what I heard. You follow your heart, man and stand up for the little guy. You have integrity and honour, something this world is sadly lacking today."

Steve lowered his head and a humble smile pulled at his lips. "Thank you, my friend."

Clint nodded feeling awkward in the moment. He hadn't intended on going on about the Accords but it was weighing heavy on his mind. Steve, Wanda and he were essentially seeking sanctuary in Wakanda while at Stark's and Fury's mercy to clean up the mess.

"I know you miss your family, Clint. I don't think I ever told you how much I appreciated you stepping up…"

Clint lifted a hand to forestall Steve from going any further. "The Avengers should not be a governed body. It makes no sense in hell to do that. We have to autonomous. The decisions we make are not something that can be decided by a committee. I fought beside you because I believe we are right."

Steve nodded satisfied that Clint understood. He took a deep breath and looked at the door to Wanda's room. "Are you ready to fight another battle beside me?"

Clint chewed his lip. "I am, but I still wanna kick her sassy teenage butt."

Steve rolled his eyes and walked to the door. "Try to contain yourself."

"Whatever. Don't knock, man, just walk the hell in. She lost any kind of rights you think she deserves when she threw us out the damned door. It's time to show her whose boss."

Steve opened his mouth to say something but Clint reached out and pushed the door open.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thanks for the reviews. **_

_**Cheers,**_

_**Sawyer.**_

**NEW YORK**

Peter tossed his chemistry book onto his bed, sighing loudly and looking at the clock on his side table. 8pm. How could it only be 8pm? Peter stood up, pacing his room and listening to see if his aunt had returned home yet. Silence echoed in his ears and he knew she hadn't. His aunt had been taking extra shifts lately to earn some extra money. Peter had had a growth spirt, outgrowing his shoes and some of his shirts as well. As always, his aunt and he were always on a tight budget. It made him feel horrible that she had to work such long hours because of him but she reassured him that it was his time in life to be a kid and go to school. She refused to let him get a part-time job even. Childhood was short enough and he should enjoy it just as she had. It seemed to Peter that being a kid was lasting forever but he gave up arguing with her. More than anything, he was lonely and he despised being alone night after night.

Peter wandered out into the family room, plopping down into the old comfortable sofa. He grabbed the nearest pillow and hugged it as he stared around the room. It had been exactly two weeks since Tony Stark had dumped him off, apologising to May for keeping Peter overnight without giving her a suitable reason. Of course, Aunt May, being who she was, waved it off as unimportant. She made Mr. Stark promise to come for dinner sometime, thanking him kindly for offering Peter such a fantastic opportunity. Peter's heart had thumped so violently in his chest during the whole Stark performance that he thought he might quite literally hyperventilate and die in front of them both. However, Mr. Stark had been a man of his word and never mentioned a thing about Peter being Spiderman. He simply bid Peter farewell but not before tossing a cell phone at him, telling him it was a direct line to him and to call him anytime a need should arise. The subtle stern look on the man's face was missed by his aunt but it was not lost on Peter and then the man left without another word.

Peter took the phone out of his pocket and fingered it. It was just a plain Jane flip phone. Not something Peter thought the Billionaire would own much less give to him. Peter's finger rested on the call button, just like it had dozens of other times over the past two weeks but just like all the other times, something stopped him from using it.

"He's never gonna answer it, you idiot." His voice, filled with disdain, startled him as it echoed in the empty room.

Peter flipped the phone open and closed a few times before setting it on the table. This was nuts. Here it was, 8 pm on a Friday night and he was sitting at home doing his chemistry homework. What kind of loser was he anyway? The truth was he had been invited to hang out with Ned and several of his other friends but he had turned them all down. He had planned to go out as Spiderman, despite Tony's warnings but when push came to shove, he hadn't. His mind kept going back to the gauntlet and then he chickened out. The threat of a pissed off Tony Stark loomed over him **like** the shadow cast from the blade of a guillotine waiting to fall.

"This is nuts! Stark isn't the boss of me. If I wanna go out as Spiderman, I sure as hell don't need his permission!"

Peter stood to his feet just then and returned to his room, donning his old suit. He groaned when he eyed himself in the mirror. It was pathetic in comparison to Stark's suit, baggy and saggy all over. Stark had pretty much hit the nail of the head when he called them pyjamas. Peter forced himself to stand a little taller despite his appearance. So what if the suit wasn't fancy and full of top of the line technology. For better or worse, the suit was all he had and people needed his help so he needed to shake off his stupid pride and get out there. The suit had been fine before he met Stark and it would certainly do now.

The teenager locked his bedroom door, in case his aunt came home early and barged in, and escaped out his window into the night.

Several hours went by as Peter stopped a few burglaries, pickpockets and vandals. For a Friday night, Peter was pleasantly surprised to discover that crime was not so terrible that he felt guilty for not patrolling the past few weeks. He felt exhilarated as he sat at the top of a high rise realising how alive he felt when he was helping others. Nothing made him feel so useful and worthy than being Spiderman. Peter pulled out a granola bar taking a huge bite and smiling to himself. This was much more like it. He felt more alive when he was out and about, scaling the treelines and the tops of buildings.

Some bright lights in the distance caught his attention and Peter felt his spider senses tingling at the same time. It was unusual that he would sense danger considering the lights looked more like fireworks than anything dangerous. Curiosity forced him to his feet and Peter launched himself into the night, heading towards the bright lights. As he moved closer and further outside the big city, he discovered that the lights were actual explosions coming from some abandoned buildings. He continued closer, his heart beating fast in his chest. Suddenly, he wished that he could ask Karen to give him some Intel. Damn if he didn't miss his more technologically advanced suit. Cursing Stark, Peter swung closer to see a few men with some of those forbidden weapons once again. It seemed like they were continuing to check out the powers of the guns and not caring for a second the kind of damage they were inflicting around them.

"Damn it, Mason, be more careful, would ya? Do you want Toomes to incinerate you like he did Brice?" The burly man made a face at his partner and snatched the high tech weapon from his hand.

"What the hell, Schultz!" complained Mason, looking chagrined. "I was just testing its capabilities is all. Can't a guy have any fun around here?"

"Toomes wanted us to deliver the goods, not blow up half of New York in the process. Wasn't the Ferry incident enough attention?"

Peter shrunk low behind the building trying to hear the rest of the conversation.

Schultz held the weapon in his hand, admiring it.

"Can you believe that Spider-kid? Toomes was so pissed off over the ferry incident; I thought he was going to blow a gasket."

Schultz set the weapon down on that back gate of the truck he was standing beside, turning to whistle at the burning building across from them.

"Whatever. Forget the kid, already. He's small potatoes. We have a job to do and the police are going to be here soon enough. Let's get out a here and get something to eat."

Peter rested on his haunches, debating on his best recourse. Letting these two jokers go their way would just allow these weapons to stay in circulation. Who knew what Toomes planned to do with them! Peter was guessing that he'd sell them to the highest bidder and that could mean a lot of trouble for the United States in the future. If they fell into the wrong hands, it could mean war or worse. Deciding that he needed to stop them, Peter stood up and swung into action.

~~~HEROES~~~

Tony Stark scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed wearily. He was bone-tired from events recently. The Accords had him emotionally worn out and his growing concern with his mentorship with Peter Parker had him torn into pieces. What had he been thinking of getting mixed up with a teenager? It was one of the stupidest ideas in his whole life. What had processed him to think that he could just drop in on a kid's life, use him for his own interests and think he could just toss him aside? Life didn't work like that when it came to kids.

"Stupid doesn't even begin to describe you, Stark," he mumbled to himself for the umpteenth time over the last several weeks.

Tony strode across the room and threw himself down on the sofa in his workshop. His mind wasn't on his work at all. Not that his work was anything but play this time of day but still, he was annoyed that he couldn't concentrate on his play. Peter Parker was the only thing that haunted his thoughts both day and night. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was approaching 10 pm. He found himself wondering what the kid was up to on a Friday night. What kind of things did kids do nowadays on a Friday night? Tony knew what he did when he was 15 years old and he hoped to God Peter's Aunt May didn't allow him to do those kinds of things. Tony shuddered at the thought. He'd been out of control with two busy socialite parents who had little time to pay attention to his shenanigans. More times than not, Tony was bailed out of mishaps by the butler or his governess. No one bothered trying to correct his behaviour. Tony just spun out of control.

Tony's thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone. Grabbing his cell, he glanced at the number to see Happy Hogan's face on his screen.

"Yo, Hap. What's up?"

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Boss, but you better be googling some up-to-date YouTube videos on your spider problem."

Tony's mouth went dry. No. It couldn't be true. He'd forbidden Peter to go out as Spiderman for two weeks while he cooled off over the whole Ferry fiasco. Peter wouldn't dare defy him, would he? Not after everything they'd so clearly discussed. Tony rose to his feet, his cell phone still glued to his ear as Happy went on to describe some recent events happening as they spoke. Tony pulled up YouTube and in the spotlight was none other than Spiderman in all his glory.

"What the holy hell does that kid think he's doing?"

Tony stared at the video with his mouth dangling open. Peter was taking on two yahoos with some very high tech weapons. Tony grimaced, not knowing if he was more impressed or just genuinely pissed off at Peter's antics.

"Kid's got grit, Boss."

Tony groaned. "I'm going to kick his ass, Happy!"

"Want me to drag him to the tower?"

"Nah, allow me the pleasure. Looks like the kid has things well in hand, but damn it all to hell, Hap, why does that kid have to make such a friggen mess doing it!"

Tony heard Happy chuckle on the other end of the line. "The kid is good. You have to admit that."

Tony sighed as he watched Peter web up the two hoodlums to the wall. All the while the kid was chattering away, oblivious to the fact that some stupid tourist was recording the whole event and uploading it directly to YouTube. The recorder was likely going to make a bundle off YouTube for the live action broadcast, shot before authorities even were aware of the event. God, why was he the lucky one all the time? Why couldn't Rhodey be the one to have to deal with this nonsense? Didn't he, Tony Stark, already have enough drama in his life?

"Call in the Stark cleaning crew, Hap, and I'll go bring our Spidey-boy home." With that, Tony cut off the call and dropped his cell phone into this pocket.

It was going to be one hell of a long night.

~~~Heroes~~~

Peter paced. It was an odd habit but it was something he did when he was very anxious or very angry. This time, he was both. His lips and brow were firmly set in a menacing scowl only matched by Tony Stark's equally ominous glare. An observer might have wagered a guess that the two of them were having a glaring match. Tony was standing with both his hands on his hips and muttering expletives under his breath, not loud enough to be understood but obvious enough to be known he was cursing up a storm.

"Stop it!" said Peter, suddenly finding his tongue and annoyed enough to have the guts to say something despite the polar dip in the room.

Tony's glare deepened. "Stop what? My plan to kick your ass into the middle of next week?"

"You and whose army, Stark?"

Tony chuckled sardonically. "I don't need an army, kid. All I need is one Ironman boot."

Peter swallowed hard at the remark and crossed his arms. His anger wasn't going to get him far in this conversation and he knew it.

Tony hadn't even removed his Ironman suit yet. The man was standing sternly sans the helmet with his hands on his hips, doing his damnedest to look intimidating and he was going a pretty good job at it. In pale comparison, Peter was still in his homemade Spiderman suit and the whole sight was ridiculous, making Peter feel like even more like a kid.

"You didn't need to haul me off like some wanton criminal. I did everyone a favour catching those guys. They have to work for Toomes!"

Tony's arms dropped to his side and he took a step closer to Peter, pointing at him sternly. "Where's the phone I gave you?"

Peter sucked in a breath and took a step back. His mind raced in the moment. He didn't remember what he'd done with the phone. His suit didn't exactly come equipped with deep pockets for cell phones. He didn't even carry his own when he was out and about as Spiderman. It ticked his aunt off too. "Uhh, I dunno…umm, I think it's at home…"

"Why aren't you at home with it, Pete? Why the hell didn't you just call me and tell me what was going on instead of taking it into your own stupid head to handle it yourself? Seems to me that I remember grounding you from the whole Spiderman gig…"

"NO, you didn't. You asked if I would take a break for a couple of weeks, and I did. It was time I got back out there, and besides, you're not my boss, Stark!" Peter's voice sounded much firmer than he felt. Inside, he felt like a bowl full of runny Jell-O.

Tony's jaw was clenched tightly. He spun on his heel with a loud growl and walked towards the mini bar. On the way there, he stopped to step out of his Ironman suit and the suit disappeared from the room under its own power. Peter's jaw dropped in amazement. Every time he witnessed to Tony's ingenuity, he was left in complete awe.

Tony grabbed two bottles of waters from the mini-fridge, turned and chucked one at Peter's head. Peter's quick reflexes took over and he caught the water.

"That's not how I remember things, Underoos."

Peter shrugged and set the bottle of water down. He hadn't given up his pacing yet and wasn't ready to accept any peace offerings from Tony just yet.

Tony, on the other hand, opened the top on his and emptied the bottle. Being pissed off at the teenager had made him thirsty. More than anything, though, he longed for something a hell of a lot stronger but he knew he needed to keep his wits about him so he could aim straight when he kicked the spider's little butt across the penthouse.

"Look, Pete, I thought we got past all this teenage angst last time. I'm really trying hard here and you seem to just go for broke. What gives?"

Peter furrowed his brows, not even knowing how to answer the question.

"I took a break. The break is over. Plain enough for you?" Peter was surprised at how sharp his tone was. He was also surprised how angry and hurt he felt; he didn't even really understand why.

Tony sighed and sat down on the very plush and comfortable sofa. He gestured for Peter to follow suit but Peter shook his head stubbornly.

"Damn it. How is possible that I can screw up with you every friggen time?" Tony leaned back and ran both hands through his hair before looking up. "Okay, Spiderling, you win. I did ask you to take a break for two weeks, and you're correct, that time is up. However, I did not give you back the suit; therefore, you damned well should have called me to get it back rather than going out in your pyjamas and taking on the dangerous bad guys again. May I remind you that those are the same high tech weapons that almost got you killed a couple of weeks ago? I'm still pissed with you over that whole Ferry incident."

Peter stopped pacing and set his gaze on Tony. His eyes were ablaze. "You said _YOU_ would be in touch when _YOU_ were ready! That phone was for emergencies. It wasn't an emergency. I handled things fine on my own."

Tony harrumphed. "Shall I bill you directly for my cleanup crew's expenditures, Mr. Parker?"

Peter glared. "Those buildings were blown up long before I came on the scene. I'm the one that stopped them from doing any more damage, so don't lay that crap on me, Stark."

Tony stood up and his hands found his hips once more, exasperation written across his face. "Kid, it's not the damage that concerns me. It's your reckless attitude."

Peter's face reddened, huffing in annoyance but remained silent.

"Now, I'm not in the mood to rehash conversations we've already had. I'm just going to follow through with the consequences and hope I get something through to that thick head of yours."

Peter's brows rose and his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

"Seems to me that you broke our deal. Tell me, Mr. Parker, what was rule number two?"

Peter searched his head for the rules. It had been a few weeks and he hadn't actually been all that keen on paying much attention to the rules Mr. Stark had blathered about. He just agreed originally to get the suit back and to shut the man up.

Tony crossed his legs, picking imaginary lint from his sweatshirt. He looked entirely too smug for Peter's liking and it was making him more angry than repentant.

"Well? I'm waiting, Pete."

Peter shrugged and pulled off his red and blue sweatshirt, feeling hot under the collar. Without his sweater, his red t-shirt underneath felt much cooler. He hiked up his saggy blue bottoms and decided to take a load off and sit.

"Who the hell cares," he muttered heatedly, trying to keep his pride intact.

Tony rubbed his temple that seemed to be pounding a new tune in his head. "Let me refresh your memory. No going after supervillains with high tech weapons. Sound vaguely familiar, Mr. Parker?"

Peter sighed, his anger melting away. He was screwed. Suddenly, fatigue hit him full force. It was going to be a long, long evening.

"They weren't supervillains…" he muttered half-heartedly.

Tony lifted one brow in amusement. "Yah, yah, I'll give you that, but they were using high tech weapons that you know nothing about. Am I right?" Peter narrowed his eyes at him but didn't answer so Tony continued, "You also broke rule three."

Peter searched his brain again but came up empty. He had no idea what rule Tony was referring to this time either.

"Don't piss off Tony," said Tony, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Peter sunk back further into the sofa. He felt like he was attached to a bungee cord, rushing full speed to the ground only to be jerked upward one again. The sensation was jarring. Anger mixed with fear settling into his gut.

"What about not pissing me off, huh? You grabbed me like some kind of prey. I wasn't even finished…" muttered Peter.

"Pete," said Tony in annoyance. "If I hadn't dragged your sorry carcass out of there, you might have been caught by the police."

Peter's rage surged up once more and he looked Tony square in the eyes. "I was leaving a note!"

Tony sighed, "Yah, from your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. I know. Cute, kid." His voice was dripping in sarcasm. Tony stood to his feet and pulled Peter to his. His finger went into Peter's face quickly and Peter was unable to back away. "Toomes and his lackeys don't need a friendly neighbourhood spider baby. They need the damned Avengers!"

Peter grabbed Tony's arm and attempted to pull it off him but it was to no avail. It was then that Peter realised that Tony's watch gauntlet had been activated. There was no way Peter could escape Tony's iron-like grip.

"There are no Avenger's left. You disbanded them in Sokovia."

Tony's face reddened at the words, and he released his grip on Peter. Peter stepped back and straightened his shirt. Tony took a few steps away forcing his own self to calm down before turning back to the kid.

"I know. And you know it was for a good reason." The man's words were quiet.

Peter nodded, chewing on his bottom lip regretfully. He freely admitted he didn't understand everything concerning the Avengers, but he was willing to admit he knew it must be for a good reason. There would be no other reason why the Avengers would split up and make enemies of each other. Peter's conscious pricked at him uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Peter, regret in his voice. As much as he was angry, he didn't want to hurt Tony.

Tony waved a dismissive hand. "Forget it, kid. We have enough to hash out tonight to let that bother me."

Peter nodded and began to pace again.

Tony pinched his nose wearily. The two of them were at a standstill and the ball was in Tony's court and he knew it. He had to fish or cut bait.

"Peter, I need to make a stand here. You're never going to respect me as an authority in your life if I keep pussy footing around…"

Peter turned on his heel and scowled. "You're not anything to me, Stark."

Tony shook his head. "We had a deal, Underoos. I've kept my part of it and you haven't. So you have a choice here. You accept the consequences for your behaviour or you release me from the deal and let me have a chat with your Aunt May." Tony looked at his watch. He was in no mood to let this drag into the next day. He was dealing with it tonight and taking the kid home. Plain and simple.

Peter blinked.

"I'm not going to give you a whole bunch of time to think it over. We both know that just leads to you doing something stupid, so hurry up and decide so we can both get on with life."

Peter felt the colour drain from his face. There was no way May would understand him being a superhero. She would forbid it and he would go against her and it would be one giant mess.

"I…umm…I'm sorry, Mr. Stark…I…umm…" Peter stammered.

Tony rolled his eyes impatiently. "What'll it be, Pete?"

Peter shrugged and Tony threw his hands up in exasperation. Letting the kid decide was like putting him in front of 100 different kinds of ice cream and expecting him to pick one favour. It was impossible. It was time to take the bull by the horns and take charge. Tony strode over to the wide eyed teenager and grasped him firmly by the arm.

"W-wait, Mr. Stark, c-can't we talk about this?" stammered Peter, taken aback and trying his best to pull away from the iron grip on his mentor.

"Pete, I've talked more to you than I talk to Pepper and that's saying a lot. I'm finished talking."

Tony pulled Peter over towards the sofa, put his foot on the edge and hiked the kid over his knee. Peter protested indignantly but Tony ignored him, scowling as he delivered several sharp swats to the kid's upended hiney.

"Oww…Mr. Stark…I'm sorry. P-Please stop," pleaded Peter, squirming and struggling to get free. Tony gritted his teeth and continued raining down swats but remained silent. He was tired of talking and for now, he was content to let his hand do the work for him.

Peter continued to squawk, squirm and complain but Tony disregarded it. He knew he wasn't really hurting the kid much anyway. Tony had spent a few days testing out the gauntlet as well as testing his strength on his own thigh. It might have sounded stupid, but Tony wanted to know how hard he was hitting. He didn't want to leave any marks, but he did want to leave a lasting sting. Tony figured that he'd smack the kid twenty times before he'd let the kid take a breather.

"P-please, Mr. Stark, please s-stop. You're h-hurting me."

Tony kept count in his head until he reached twenty sharp, stinging swats then he stopped. He repositioned Peter and held him close to his middle. Peter was breathing heavy and struggling to get free.

"Do I have your attention now, Mr. Parker? Would you by any chance be ready to listen to reason?"

Peter shuttered and attempted to reach back to rub his stinging rear-end. Tony's swats weren't unbearable but they were certainly capturing his attention enough that he wanted to escape. His accelerated healing seemed to ward off the worst of the sting but Tony's firm swats were building up enough that he felt the throb and it was getting harder to maintain his dignity. Peter had been smacked around enough to know he healed quickly, but in all honesty, no one ever hit him more than once in the same place. The constant attention to the same area of his backside was bringing about much more of a sting than he would have liked.

"Pete?" Tony captured his hand and another sharp smack sucked his attention back into the room.

"OW!" he shouted, feeling that one a little more than the others.

"Do I have your attention yet?"

"Lemme go!" Peter struggled to get free but was unable to move easily enough to gain a foothold.

Tony shifted his knee tipping Peter forward further so that his feet dangled off the ground, putting more pressure on his stomach. Peter sucked in an uncomfortable breath.

"We had a deal, Pete. You break the deal, you end up here. Period. End of story. Got it?"

When Peter didn't answer, Tony resumed his assault on the kid's tender spots eliciting screeches from him.

"Please, Mr. Stark, please….ow…stop…" With these words, Peter dissolved into sobs but Tony didn't stop. He had a lesson to impart and he planned to carry it through to completion.

"Right about now, you're feeling pretty damned sorry for yourself, I'm sure, but you see, I want to get you past that and onto feeling sorry for breaking rules."

Tony was feeling rather heartless as he listened to the teenager sob but he didn't relent. He could feel the tension in the kid and he knew Peter hadn't completely yielded yet plus Tony also knew that he wasn't smacking the kid very hard. He'd given himself two black and blue bruises on his upper thigh from the gauntlet when he tested it and he wasn't an enhanced superhero. The strength he was using behind the swats wasn't nearly as hard as he'd used on himself.

"God, stop, Stark, please!" This time belligerence rang out in the kid's voice between the sobs.

"Nope, not yet," answered Tony, upping the ante a little, keeping perfect control. Peter stiffened and yelped in response and Tony knew he's reached the perfect cadence. "Okay, I think we've reached the point where I have your attention." Peter yelped again and then his body went limp across Tony's knee. "There, now we're making progress." Tony stilled his hand, resting it on Peter's back and pulling Peter's shaking frame closer to his middle, adjusting him once again.

"P-please let me get up, I feel like I'm gonna be sick," cried Peter, his bottom lip quivering pathetically. Not only was Peter utterly humiliated, but he was also completely at Tony's mercy and currently, Tony didn't seem to have any.

"What was our deal?"

Peter huffed and was rewarded with a few sharp swats for his troubles. "Owwwww…okay…d-don't go after bad guys with super weapons," he cried out loudly, with a hiccup.

"And?" prodded Tony, tapping the kid's back lightly to encourage him along. His knee was getting sore supporting the kid's full weight and he wanted to finish things up.

"Don't piss you o-off!" Peter's voice cracked through the shuttering sobs. Tony figured he'd let that one slide. He did basically say that anyhow and he could always explain himself a little better afterwards.

"Alright, then we're done here."

Tony dropped his knee, supporting Peter's weight as he straightened up and the kid felt the floor beneath his feet once more. Immediately, Peter jumped back and his hands flew to his sore rear, as tears of embarrassment and obvious discomfort ran down his flushed face.

"Now, then, since we've established an understanding and rid you of that attitude of yours, would you be so kind as to sit your ass down and let's have a little chat about your future as Spiderman."

Peter gulped, tears running down his cheeks but he obeyed and sat gingerly on the soft sofa, wincing as his tender bottom made contact with the cushion. He was too stunned to do anything but stare. He'd just been soundly spanked by Tony Stark, and it had hurt far more than he wanted to admit.

**WAKANDA**

Wanda winced as she applied a generous amount of the liniment to her injury. The cream soothed the burning ache that throbbed in her shoulder. Tears still lingered in her red-rimmed eyes as she replaced the bandage carefully and cradled her arm thinking about Steve and Clint. Clint Barton was a difficult man to figure out. On the one hand, he could be so compassionate towards her. She would never forget how kind he had been to her in Sokovia. Things had gotten so overwhelming so fast. Clint had been so protective and had rescued her, giving her permission to hide and be safe if she chose.

"Doesn't matter what you did, or what you were. If you go out there, you fight and you fight to kill. Stay in here, you're good. I'll send your brother to come find you. But if you step out that door, you are an Avenger," he'd said, all the while being so kind and gentle. Almost paternal. It had brought tears to her eyes then, reminding her of another time when her father had been alive.

And then when he'd come to free her from Vision, he'd been stern but still so very kind telling her that if she wanted to make amends, that she needed to get off her ass. It was a gruffness she could appreciate. Like something a loving father would say to his kid to stir them out of complacency.

Then Wanda thought about Steve and how he'd taken her under his wing and trained her with such compassion and skill. He helped her hone her skills and control them. She'd felt so lost after Sokovia and all that happened. Steve had taken his time to befriend her and love her. When no one else trusted her, Steve had embraced her. He had taught her to trust herself. That is until that fateful day in Nigeria when she lost control and so many innocent bystanders died because of her.

Steve had tried to comfort and take the blame on himself but deep down Wanda knew that the blame belonged to her. Steve had trained her well and she'd lost control. That was her fault and no one else's. She should have done better.

Tears streamed from her eyes once again. She had tried to make amends over and over but every time she messed up worse than the time before. Being restrained, locked up in prison and then rescued and taken to Wakanda to wait had pretty much been the final straw. All of it was killing her inside. Too much downtime and too much alone time equalled too much time in her own head. Since arrived in Wakanda, both Steve and Clint had left her to her own devices, each man mourning their own losses. It had left her unsettled and basically freaked out. It hadn't taken long for the nightmares to resume, only this time they were different. Before Pietro had been killed, her nightmares always revolved around her parents' death but now they were about her parents, Pietro and all the people she'd killed. The nightmares were torturous. She hardly slept peacefully anymore.

Wanda stood up suddenly, feeling odd. Her heart rate increased and she felt light-headed. What was wrong? She didn't feel like herself. She felt like all her energy was being drained from her. Had she allowed her powers to take over too much? Had she given in to the intensity and somehow injured herself. Wanda looked down at her fingertips and willed the red energy to flow through her fingers. Nothing happened. Wanda began to panic. What had she done?

~~~heroes~~~

Steve followed behind Clint and stopped when he saw Wanda's pale face. The girl's lips were trembling and her red-rimmed eyes were open wide in terror.

"Hey, kiddo, are you okay?" asked Clint, compassion and worry apparent in his voice.

Wanda didn't seem to hear him as she stared at her fingers. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she wiggled her fingers and scrunched up her face like she was in pain.

"Wanda," said Steve stepping into her personal bubble and tipping her chin up to face him. When her eyes focussed on him, he said, "Hey, what's the matter?"

Wanda brushed his hand away. "Don't."

Clint stepped up and stood beside Steve, both of their faces filled with concern. Wanda was distraught and on the verge of panic. They hadn't seen her like that, not since Sokovia when her brother was killed. Wanda had been completely out of control then. Her grief had made her powers unstoppable.

Steve made an attempt to embrace the teen girl, trying to comfort her as he recognized her panicked state. Steve had felt moments of complete terror when he'd awoken after being frozen for so long. He understood what true panic was.

Wanda shoved him away with all her might and then immediately Steve understood what was upsetting her. She was as weak as a kitten and no match for his strength. Under normal circumstances, she could have sent him flying across the room or even through the window. But now her strength was sapped and she merely succeeded in making him take a step back. Steve pinned Clint with a look that he hoped the other man would understand. Wanda was powerless.

"Wanda, I know you're frightened, but listen to me a minute," said Steve, making his voice sound as gentle as possible. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be thrown back into his physical body before being enhanced by super serum. It was unfathomable to him.

Wanda's frightened eyes darted between Clint and Steve but she remained rational enough to stay calm in her panic.

"Honey, you were showing little control over your powers so King T'Challa had them contained for the time being…" explained Steve carefully, watching for the young teen's reaction. Wanda's face registered astonishment and then clear rage. Steve could see her hands trembling as she tried to summon her powers to the surface. Steve imagined that in all the time she was locked away as a young girl, she may have found her powers comforting.

"I have to say you were warned, Shortcake but you were stubbornly defiant. T'Challa could not risk one of his subjects being hurt," piped up Clint, his voice was also gentle but held a firmer tone to it. Steve wondered how his friend did that. Experience, maybe?

"H-how?" managed Wanda, awestruck. Her powers had become part of her identity and she wasn't sure how to process what she was being told.

Steve again tried to reach out to comfort her, but Wanda held her hands up to keep him at a distance.

"Technology is…" began Steve.

"It makes no difference, Wanda," interrupted Clint sternly, "The fact of the matter is you are grounded from using them in Wakanda. You need to learn self-control, and frankly, I'm a little pissed you tossed me out of the room on my ass earlier. I say we deal with that first."

Steve groaned much louder than he meant too. Clint wasn't going to let that drop any time soon.

"Clint, please…"

"No, Steve, I'm sorry but I think this is where we should start with her. We need to establish some rules and consequences for breaking them. Let's be upfront and stop pussy footing around."

Wanda looked shell-shocked and angry at the same time. "Rules?" Her mind was spinning in circles as she tried to wrap her head around her powers being taken from her. How was that even possible? What kind of place was Wakanda anyway? And what kind of technology could steal her powers without her even realizing it? It didn't make any sense to her.

"Clint, I'd rather we discussed this privately at another time…"

Clint shook his head in disagreement and dragged a chair from the corner. He reached for Wanda's arm but she pulled away, anger flickering in her eyes. Her lingering threat did nothing to waylay Clint from his agenda though. He just reached for her again more determined to catch her arm. Steve sighed trying to fathom in his own mind how much he was going to allow and when he'd step in. He wasn't a parent and had no idea how to handle a teenager. He had a vague recollection how his father had handled his rebellion but it was a very different time, heck they were in a very different country.

"Look, kid, none of this makes sense to you, and I completely get that you're a little freaked out and ticked off. You have that right, but," Clint managed to capture her arm in his and keep a firm grip on it despite her struggling against him. He moved her forcibly to the chair, forcing her to sit down in front of him. He stuck a paternal finger in her face. "You don't have the right to use your powers against us. We are not the enemy. T'Challa putting a lid on your powers was a hell of a good decision! You showed a piss-poor lack of self-control by how you acted in the meadow and by throwing us out the door. Who the hell do you think you are, kid?"

Wanda's eyes were large as Clint lectured her about her behaviour. Steve watched quietly as the girl's anger melted away and was replaced by something else…not repentance, but perhaps defeat? Steve couldn't put his finger on it. He walked over, grabbed a chair and sat in front of Wanda. He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of compassion for the girl. Her lower lip trembled and she truly looked pathetic. Lost. Overwhelmed. Young. He reached for her trembling hand and still she pulled away. Steve licked his lips and felt discouraged. What was it going to take to win her over? To just give him a little trust…he thought he'd won it before…before Nigeria.

"So, I want you to know," continued Clint, who was still in full-blown 'lecture the kid mode'. "You step out of line like that again…"

"Clint," admonished Steve, shooting his friend a look that said it was time to back off. "Her powers are gone for now. Wanda couldn't do it again even if she wanted to. Enough, already."

Clint crossed his arms and heaved a loud sigh but he shut up leaving his threat unfinished.

Steve looked back at Wanda and his heart went out to her. "Sweetie, everything is going to be okay. Your powers are not gone forever, just put under wraps for a while. I think it will be good for you to learn to control your anger without the temptation."

Wanda pursed her lips as tears tumbled down her flushed cheeks. Her chin dropped and she appeared to be lost in thought a moment. Steve and Clint exchanged a look. They had a lot to discuss. Things needed to change. If they were to stay in Wakanda for an extended time, which it looked like they were, they needed to come up with a plan. They needed to establish a new normal for them. For Wanda, that meant working on completing high school, but Steve wasn't sure what that looked like for him and Clint. They couldn't continue sitting around in limbo. They needed a purpose and a reason to get up in the morning. They needed a plan.


End file.
